


The Kings of Forest And Water: Love and Union

by moonofmorrigan, TheMirkyKing



Series: The Kings of Forest and Water [2]
Category: The Hobbit, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Barduil - Freeform, Blow Jobs, Dark Magic, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Gay, Gay Marriage, Gay Sex, Heartbreak, Humor, M/M, Magic, Masturbation, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, POV Bard the Bowman, POV Sigrid, POV Thranduil, The Kings of Forest and Water, Thranduil - Freeform, elf and human marriage, fox spirits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-02-07 05:10:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12834000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonofmorrigan/pseuds/moonofmorrigan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMirkyKing/pseuds/TheMirkyKing
Summary: The sequel to "The Romancing of Kings", Bard has traveled with his party to Mirkwood but hard choices lie ahead for the new couple, and even more startling revelations. Some that could literally kill them both.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fanfiction, and is not endorsed by the originator(s) of the work. All official characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement, offense, or solicitation is intended. This story has been written for entertainment value only. No profit is being made from this writing. Note, all original characters contained herein copyrighted to Autumn M. Miller (Morrigan) and The Mirky King.
> 
> Here it is! The dare I say 'long awaited' sequel to our first joint story in "The Kings of Forest and Water" story arc(s). We are still finishing writing it, but we would love to hear your thoughts with the story as it progresses or just to know you like it with kudos, comments, and likes. We are so greatly humbled and grateful to all who read, commented, liked/gave kudos on our first story together. We hope you like book two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two ponder the upcoming reunion, and remember the previous farewell.

Thranduil held the letter with trembling hands. He had just received a message from Legolas that Bard, and his entourage had just passed into the borders of his lands. This moment had been in his mind's eye for what seemed an eternity. The eternity had only been 6 weeks, yet it was enough. They would be at his doors in 2 days time. With a smaller and obviously less vulnerable group (small children were among the men and women) it would take a day perhaps with the guidance and protection of his elves.

 

He gestured for the messenger to go send word to the kitchens and to be able to get some fresh nourishment and clothes... it was well earned. He looked up over to the opening out unto the woods below. His palace had many such places. Each bedroom and each study was made sure to have one. His people preferred the enclosed space where they knew the dark of the wood and it's unwelcome creatures could not invade. They knew that the great spiders would never be able to pass the enchantments Thranduil placed over the palace cavern, but his elves were cautious by nature and training.

 

Two days... and then Bard and his little ones would be here. Two days he would be able to finally bite back the sting in his heart that had taken root the moment he had released Bard's hand and mounted his great elk. In two days he wouldn't have to settle for memories when he was trying to sleep.

 

Legolas chose to stay behind for a week longer to be sure Percy was comfortable on his own. He remembered the conversation he and Legolas had before his party left. Thranduil would do his best to keep that conversation buried deep within until it had to be brought forth with Bard. Legolas was more than happy for them. It was he who had originally encouraged Thranduil to go to Dale personally. He just regretted the loss of another parent. But as Legolas claimed, he had made his peace with it, and the matter would remain silent on his lips. Thranduil forced that part of this union... the bittersweet from his mind, and focused on the joy he would soon know. As he stared over his green forest, and the stars shining bright in the sky above it, he let himself daydream of his lover-king and the sensual pleasures they could soon explore.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

As soon as they entered the outskirts of the great Mirkwood forest, the branches of trees forming a dark green canopy over the small entourage, Bard was hard pressed NOT to dig his heels into his mount and gallop hell bent on reaching Thranduil and falling into his arms. The trip was almost over, and it couldn't end quickly enough for him, or for those traveling with him.

 

"My Lord Bowman!" The voice of the elven guards bringing him back, as it had for most of the trip.

 

Bard pulled up on the reigns of his horse and waited for the rest to catch up with him. The elf gave him a wry smile as the wagon carrying his family came along side of him. Bard saw Sigrid shake her head. That he was anxious to see Thranduil was evident to all of the party. Bard had the good graces to once again duck his head at his haste.

 

"Do not worry, Lord Bowman, Lord Thranduil is just as eager to see you and your family too." The elf chuckled. "He wanted to come to escort you himself, except the needs of the court required him to stay."

 

Bard nodded. It had only been six weeks since Thranduil had left, but it had felt like more. Bard let the elven escorts lead the way and he fell back to follow the cart. His mind drifted back to the morning of Thranduil's departure. Bard shifted in his saddle as the memory of how Thranduil had waken him up came back.

 

* * *

 

 

Night had fallen long ago, and Thranduil was still lost in his memory. The way he had awakened Bard on that last morning together made a twitch come to his lips. He leaned back on the bath's edge, letting his head fall back against the cold stone floor behind him. He merely stared at the ceiling which had been painted with colorful murals of the skies above. It was like looking at the stars themselves if he let his imagination get carried away. But his mind wasn't on stars. It was remembering the feel of Bard's warm back against his chest. His taut muscles at rest as he slept. Soft, brown curls fell around him in an unruly, but sensual manner, and the contented smile on his face made Thranduil nuzzle his cheek in to his lover's back, as he brought his arm more tightly around his waist. The tanned skin was so alluring to him, and all he wanted to do was touch and kiss it.

 

He didn't want to wake Bard however. Lord knew he needed sleep. Thranduil couldn't resist however, laying the softest touch of his lips along the back Bard's shoulders and neck. His butterfly kisses became more focused when he had kissed his way to the side of Bard's neck and worked up to his jawline. It wasn't until a moment later when Bard began to turn over, then put his fingertips under Thranduil's chin to bring him to his lips that Thranduil realized he had apparently awakened him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Bard smiled as he mused over that morning. The soft clop of his horses hooves, the creaking of the cart and the low murmurs of his children lulled him. Bard often let his mind drift back to their last night and that morning. How warm and content he had felt in Thranduil's arms, of his lips kissing him softly.

 

Bard had woken slowly, not wanting to let Thranduil know he was awake. But Thranduil's kisses only made his morning erection hard to ignore. Bard was a bit surprised to find Thranduil also seemed to be suffering from the same problem. It was what had woken him actually, the press of Thranduil's turgid member against the small of his back, before Thranduil had even started to kiss him, had Bard realizing that while Thranduil was an elf, he was a male elf. It made Bard almost laugh, that all males seemed to have morning "wood". He turned in Thranduil's arms, bringingÂ his lover’s lips to his, kissing him softly.

 

"Mmmm, good morning my love." Bard hummed as he canted his hips against Thranduil. Bard nipped at Thranduil's jaw as he ground them together. "It seems you are happy this morning..... I would be happy to give you a hand and...." Bard bit at his ear, "start the day right!"

 

 

Bard slipped his hand between them, wrapping his hand around Thranduil's shaft. Slowly he began to pump the shaft, squeezing and twisting the head before sliding back down. Thranduil's breath picked up and Bard's own breath caught when Thranduil grasped his own leaking cock and began to pump him. Bard thrust his hips as Thranduil worked him. Bard smiled as Thranduil also began to rock his hips.

 

 

Bard pulled back so he could watch Thranduil. Hair messy from sleep, lips full, his eyes half closed and just a hint of flush on his cheeks. Thranduil in the morning was even more glorious. Bard picked up his pace and Thranduil matched him. It didn't take long before he was spilling over Thranduil's hand, calling out his name. Bard barely remembered to keep his hand pumping Thranduil as he came and with a firm grip, helped Thranduil to find release, his hot seed trickling over his fist. They lay panting, hands still holdingÂ each other’sÂ spent members. Bard gave a shaky chuckle. "I could get used to waking up like this."

 

 

 

"You're hands are magic Bard..." he smirked with a hot breath as he leaned over to kiss and nip at Bard's ear. He worked his lips down, then pulled up to kiss Bard fully and deeply on the lips. "It would be a most welcome dream to wake up like this every morning. One I hope we can indulge in once you are in my realms, " he leaned down and gave Bard another deep kiss, "and in my bed."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Bard shifted again in his saddle. He had dreamed of what would happen in Thranduil's bed. Many a night had he let himself explore his body so that he wouldn't be nervous with his lover. Bard winced, thinking of Thranduil was not a smart move while riding a horse. The only thing that tamed his ardor was thinking of their good bye. He didn't like to think about it. Their goodbye was public, everyone there to cheer and call out their wishes to the elven host and king. While everyone now knew of their relationship, they didn't kiss or make a show of it. Thranduil had grasped his hand and Bard had held it tight, only letting go when Thranduil straightenedÂ on his mighty elk. Bard had stood straight, raised his hand to his heart and then down, the elven gesture of an embrace. Thranduil had done the same and then turned his elk and did not look back. Bard had fought the wild urge to chase after him, to throw off all responsibility, mount his horse and simply follow his lover. Sigrid had slipped her hand into his and squeezed it and he squeezed back and muttered, "I will be alright. ...we all will be alright. "

 

 

And now just a few days, they would be once again be together. Bard looked forward to seeing how the children liked Mirkwood, even though it was a dangerous forest, there was still peaceful areas. He couldn't wait to see how they took to elven ways. How would the elves take to having humans living with them? So many possibilities, so many ways it could go. Bard sincerely hoped all would go well. He had already lectured his brood about being good, pointless really, as they were good kids, still he had wanted them to know this was more then a holiday. They represented Dale and they were guest to Mirkwood.

 

 

As they made camp for the night, Bard pondered his relationship with Thranduil. Would he have a private room? Bard would understand if that was the case. Bard was aware that elves had a vastly different view on relationships then humans, so Bard wasn't sure what he was seen as to them. Friend and lover to their king, but would they accept him as more than that? Bard hadn't really addressed the possibility of being married to Thranduil with his children. He was just happy that they were accepting of their love. Bard liked the guards sent with them but they were doing their duty for their king, not here to discuss their feelings about their kings affections. Bard respected that, only he wished that Percy was with him. Or Fern. He had wanted Fern to comeÂ but she had snorted and informed him that Mirkwood would have enough servants to see to them and one more human would only get in the way. Plus she had her duties here to see to, she said with a sniff. Who could argue with that? Bard grinned at the thought of Fern. He was sure she said no so as to not cause an incident there. She was not above using her sharp wit and tongue, as Thranduil's valet had found out. While he had been miffed at first, they had formed a friendly rivalry, but being around a whole host of elves....well maybe it was for the best.


	2. Chapter Two

He slipped back in to consciousness with a start. He had fell asleep thinking of his love, their last night and morning together, their farewell. He regretted to a point not looking back, but he knew if he did he'd rein his elk about, and with it his company of elves, and who knew how long it would be until they left?

 

He moved his head from side to side hearing the satisfying popping sound within loosening up the joints and muscles that had seized up while sleeping in his odd position. He was lucky he have chose the bathtub instead of the hot springs pool that steamed next to the bathtub several feet away. He may have slipped beneath the waves and had a very rude awakening indeed.

 

His dream had been peaceful and content at the least. He had dreamed of stars and the wood, the vast heavens opening up and with it Bard, clothed all in white embracing him, loving him. It wasn't lust-filled love making. Just mere love making without the urgency of sexual delight in it. Just touches, kisses, holding the other until finally Bard had fallen asleep with him beneath the vast heavens he was seeing.

 

As he looked further into the world about him, he seen the woods about him were fair and green, open patches filled with meadow flowers. They laid on a bed of soft green moss and their cloaks and bodies served to warm them, as a stream bubbled nearby, and a waterfall to their back. It was fragrant and beautiful, and it was happiness, peace. He wondered briefly if Bard ever had dreams such as these. He wondered if the place in his dream still existed. It had been over a thousand years since he had visited it. The last time being when Legolas was conceived. He realized it was first time in hundreds of years that he was able to think of his wife without a pain in his heart. His mind began to muse perhaps this was her way of telling him she approved? Either way, the dream left him getting out of the water at peace with himself, save for the fact that Bard was not there at the moment to make it a reality. He would take him there if it still there not run too wild by the ivy and the nightshade.

 

As Uruvion helped braid his hair back (something he rarely did in Dale - but usually did at night), and be sure he had all he required for the night he bid his lordship farewell for the evening. Most elves slept at twilight, waking when the moon was at it's highest and stars their brightest, only to go back to slumber for a few hours when dawn was ready to approach.

 

Outside his doors throughout the hum of the elves in the halls and such below he could hear the bustle still going about him. The elves talking excitedly or with frustration over one thing or another. Of course, the topic of most conversations was the approaching entourage of humans. He let himself eavesdrop. While everyone presented a happy, supportive face to him, he knew this was the only way that he would know the true beat of his court and people. He didn't eavesdrop often, but he knew he needed to.

 

The main thing he caught on to was there was apparently some rumor about a dwarf being in their company, which his guards didn't seem all to happy about remembering their last experience with dwarves in their halls. The other was maids going to and fro asking if they thought Bard would like this scent, or these flowers? Would his daughter like this type of linen, this material for a robe? Would Tilda like Elvish toys and books? The guards outside his door were discussing Bain, and the desire to train him up in Elvish weapons and battle. Only here and there was the murmur of disapproval of the relationship. Only because they all knew what it meant... they were going to lose their beloved king. Who would lead them when he was gone if Legolas sailed West?

 

He briefly heard the chef scolding his helpers over a recipe he was working on, and the sugar carver got into a match over what dessert was proper and decadent enough for the welcome feast with the chef. The kitchen helper kept questioning if they ate this or that. The dairy maids were in a frenzy trying to pound butter and get enough cheeseÂ aged to cover what they thought was going to be a multitude of people. This made Thranduil laugh. Bard's party from what he had been told in the letter consisted of 20 people, including women and children. One word however was collective throughout, no matter what their feelings, Bard was called "the king's husband". The idea made him smile.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The fire crackled and laughter rang out. Bard smiled as he listened to the ladies of his court gossiping about what they expected to find in Mirkwood, of what the royal halls of King Thranduil would look like. The men also discussed what they would be doing while with the elves. Many of them hoped to learn new skills that they would be able to employ when they returned to Dale. Bard was content to simply sit and observe them. Bard had never been much of a "talker" before becoming King Bowman, and he was relieved that those traveling with him seemed happy to let him remain silent. Not that he wouldn't join in, it was just he was more comfortable when not expected to be the center of conversation. If he had to pick one thing that he disliked the most about his change in life, it would be public speaking, of all discourse. He was used to being a man of action and little words. He had become better at holding court when Thranduil had stepped in. Bard had learned a great deal from him.

 

Thranduil had told Bard that remaining silent was a good trait, but there was fine line with it. "You can learn much from holding your tongue while in court, yet silence can also be seen as a indifference or worse, that the ruler is a simpleton." Thranduil had flashed a grin at Bard. "But then again, speaking too much can also confirm that too!"

 

Thranduil's wink took Bard by surprise. Bard's feelings about the elf king were still new, he wasn't even sure if what he was feeling when around him was just nerves or something more. That wink made Bard's heart leap. Thranduil had shown that he had a sense of humor and was willing to show Bard this made him happy.

 

 

Bard was roused out of his thoughts with the laughter of Sigrid. Bard glanced over to her. She sat next to the young Dwarf, Ginmul. Bard felt a moment of disquiet as he watched them. Sigrid smile was wide, her eyes dancing with amusement at what Ginmul was saying, and the way the young Dwarf smiled. Sigrid leaned into the young man, bumping him with her shoulder. It was just a friendly nudge, but there was no mistaking the look on Ginmul's face when she did it- pure adoration!

 

Bard felt a jolt of fatherly protection well up. He fought down the urge to jump up and haul Ginmul away from his daughter. Not only would Sigrid not take kindly to that, nor would the Dwarves. Ginmul was part of the small group of Dwarves who had elected to stay in Dale when the delegation left. Most were smiths and iron workers, lending their skills and advice to Dale's limited pool of workers. Ginmul was not of that ilk, he was a scholar and historian. Sigrid and he had met over dusty scrolls and books that were in need of rescue. It was their combined effort that brought to light again delicacies and traditions lost when Smaug's desolation had descended. Now the people of New Dale were eager to once again bring those back. Bard was proud of Sigrid's work, and happy that she seemed to have found a good friend in Gimul, but now he wasn't so sure it was just friendship....was it more?

 

Bard watched them, noticing that on Sigrid's part, she seemed clueless to the affection of Ginmul. Bard swallowed hard. When had his daughter become such beauty? He could understand Ginmul's attraction. Bard struggled with the lump in his throat as he really saw her. Sigrid was so like his late wife, Anneka. Dark, wavy hair, freckles dusting nose and cheek bones, eyes of deep brown and her smile.…Â Anneka was smiling right there. Bard blinked back tears. He had struggled so long, had buried his pain at losing her, that he had blocked her from his mind, from seeing her in their children. Bard hastily wiped the tears from his eyes and stood up.

 

Sigrid glanced over and motioned for him to join them. Bard waved off the offer, smiling to take the small frown off her face. He could feel her watching him as he moved away from the fire and into the darkness. Bard was aware of the elven guard that trailed behind him. He just needed a moment alone, but knew that he would never have that, not while he was king. Bard only went a few yards away and ignoring the guard, lowered himself to the ground. He closed his eyes. The trees stirred in the breeze and Bard could almost believe it was Anneka in the wind. "Please, my beloved," Bard silently spoke to his wife, "please forgive me....I just couldn't..... it was too much.... you were my life!" The tears streamed down his face. "You were my everything and then you were gone.... I am sorry my love.... I had to be strong for our children... I couldn't think about you or I would have been lost.... Please forgive me...."

 

A sob escaped him and he wrapped his arms around his legs and buried his face into his arms and finally let his grief out. Bard wasn't sure how long he cried, only that he felt relieved, cleansed and at peace. He became aware that the elven guard was no longer there. Bard gave a shaky laugh. So that was all it took to be alone? Ragged and heart-wrenchingÂ sobbing? Bard rubbed his face and looked up at the dark tree canopy, he could just make out some stars throughÂ the fluttering leaves. He breathed in deep, held it and then let it out. That cry was a long time coming and much needed. Bard sighed, he should have had it a long time ago. He nodded, as if hearing Anneka chiding him for denying his grief, and stood.

 

He raised his fingers to his lips, kissed them and then held the kiss to the wind that stirred, seeming to take the offered gesture, "Thank you my love.....thank you for all that we had, for our children and for the love we had ...and for the new love I have found..." Bard smiled and with another deep breath turned and went back to camp.

Â Â 

Bard was almost back to camp when his elven guard appeared. The guard bowed his head at Bard, hand to his heart. Bard gave him a small smile and continued on with the elf following silently. Bard felt no shame in his grief, but it was a relief that elves tended to be more private about their grief. He respected that.

 

Bard paused before returning to the fire and Sigrid, turning to the young elven guard. "Thank you...." Bard silently cursed, he had been introduced but the name slipped his grasp.

 

The elf inclined his head and supplied "Lathai, Lord Bowman, and I will be about my rounds if that is acceptable to you?"

 

"Yes, thank you Lathai." Bard nodded as the elf bowed again and slipped back into the night and his watch.

 

Bard approached the fire, Sigrid looked up releaved. "Da! I was starting to get worried." She exclaimed.

 

Bard sat next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders to hug her. She glanced at him, brows drawn, frowning. "Da...What's wrong?"

 

Bard kissed her cheek. "Nothing, nothing at all, darling." Bard assured her. She still gave him a skeptical look, Bard kissed her again which finally gained him a smile. "You grow more beautiful every day! Bard told her, his love and pride filling his voice. "You look so much like your mother."

 

Sigrid scoffed at him. "Awww, Da, "I'm not beautiful!" She protested.

 

"YES YOU ARE!" Bard and Ginmul said at the same time.

 

Sigrid's mouth fell open at Ginmul's fervent exclamation. Bard wasn't surprised, but he could see that Sigrid was. Ginmul own shock at having let his feeling show had Bard feeling rather sorry for the dwarf.

 

"See," Bard said, giving Ginmul a quick smile, "you can't dispute it, you got proof from the both of us!"

 

Sigrid gave him a uncertain smile, but avoided looking at Ginmul.

 

"Well, I should check to make sure my pack is ready for tomorrow and on my horse...." Ginmul said, face flushed as he stood up and with a nod to both, quickly left.

 

Bard was about to ask Sigrid about Ginmul when Bain suddenly stormed up to the fire and flung himself down. Before Bard could speak, Sigrid pounced. "What's wrong with you!"

 

Bain stared at the fire and muttered, "Mind your own business!"

 

Bard was about to reprimand him when he saw Renna, the youngest female guard, took up position not far from the fire. Her glance and small frown at Bain left little to why his son was upset. Sigrid had also noticed and Bard was glad that she didn't poke further at Bain. Bard only prayed that Bain hadn't done anything stupid. Bain had taken to Renna the moment he had seen her. Bard couldn't blame his son, she was a Silvan beauty, dark hair, green eyes and in terms of elven years, only a few years older then him. Thranduil had thought that his younger guards would be more open minded and tolerant to the ways of humans and dwarves so they would find living in Dale easier while on their tour of duty. Bard sighed deeply, he was glad that Tilda was asleep and still a little girl. He glanced at his children, both of them pensive, their turmoils plain on faces. Bard steeled himself, just waiting for one of them to speak.

 

"When did you know you loved Ma?" Sigrid asked. Bard started, so sure it would be Bain to speak, and such a question. Bain was looking at him over the fire, nodding at her question. "I mean," Sigrid went on, squirming, "Like love, love....How did you know?"

 

 

Bard hesitated. What could he say? Anneka and his relationship had not been the normal courtship. Bard blinked rapidly, trying not to let his tears flow again and to figure out how to actual answer Sigrid. Bard swallowed and cleared his throat, not just to stall but to combat the lump there. How did he begin? Both watched him, waiting. "Well...." Bard began tentatively. "I didn't"

 

"What!?!" Both of them exclaimed. Bard chuckled at their reaction and at the look of outrage on their faces. He held up a hand to stop them from any questions. "Maybe that is not exactly true but pretty close." He said. Both of them gave him a puzzled look. "Didn't your Ma ever tell you about how we met?" Both shook their heads. Typical, Bard thought, Anneka would tell them stories filled with adventures and wonder but often didn't think they would care to hear about their Ma and Da. Bard took a deep breath. Not that he blamed her. He smiled at the memory of the first time he saw Anneka.

 

 

The celebration was in full swing, everyone in high spirits (some due to excess ale). Bard stood watching the young men and women dancing and laughing as they twirled and jumped. He sipped at his mug of ale, enjoying the music and the merriment, but not joining the throng of his peers. He keep to the sidelines, too shy to ask anyone to dance and nursing his drink. He knew he wouldn't be asked to dance. Most thought him grim and boring, too much like his taciturn and gloomy father. Bard was used to being the quiet one and didn't really mind what people said. He had a few friends and he was happy for the most part. Since his mother's death, Bard and his father had grown more remote with each other. Bard loved his father, and knew he was loved but it had been his mother who had been the bright and talkative one, the one to get them to chat and laugh, even though they had little to find amusing in their hard life. With her passing, their silence had lengthened into days, weeks and months of them saying little to each other. Though, there was always a gentle, "Love you, lad" from his father before they went to their beds at the end of the day. Their days were busy with fishing and then tending to chores, like most people LakeTown. But tonight, the whole town was celebrating the peak of summer, the harvests had been good and for one of the few times in the year, everyone came together with food, drink and song. Bard's father had told him to go join the fun and to woo a pretty girl. Bard snorted into his mug as he watched all the "pretty" girls get swept up and danced with.

 

 

Bard was about to leave when he saw her: Anneka Hunter. The most beautiful woman in LakeTown. The Hunter's were not native to LakeTown, having arrived from the south a year ago. She had been pursuedÂ by every single (and some not so single) male in town. But it didn't take long for most to give up. Anneka made it clear she wasn't interested and the few that didn't heed her found that she knew how to throw a mean left hook.

 

She also provided that she was handy with a long bow. Anneka was wild, fierce and beautiful. Bard hadn't even tried for her, content to simply admire her from afar when he happened to see her.

 

 

Anneka smiled and mouthed "Wanna dance?"

 

Bard looked about him, sure she was saying it to someone else, and seeing no other glanced back at her. She grinned and was already moving towards him. Bard couldn’t help but admire the way she moved as she weaved through the dancing couples. Her dark blue skirt added to the allure of her swaying hips. She was nicely built, strong and lean but with shapely hips and breasts, which Bard noticed other men watching as she past them. Her long dark brown hair was braided and coiled around her head. Rich brown eyes, framed with dark lashes held his own hazel eyes. Her soft pink lips, full and smiling, high cheek bones and delicate nose with just a slight upturn was enhanced by the freckles that were dusted there.

 

When she reached him, she looked up at him. Bard had the delicious thought that he would have to lift her if he wanted to kiss her. Not that that would happen. He was a bit surprised that she was before him actually.

 

"Come dance with me Bowman!" Anneka said,, taking the mug out of his hand, drinking the ale down and then putting it on the railing as she grabbed his hand, dragging him after her. Bard resisted, causing her to pause, a small frown forming as she regarded him. "You do know how to *dance* don't you?" She drawled, her eyebrow arching as she said it. Bard gulped. The way she had said "dance" brought a flood of inappropriate images into his head.

 

All he could do was nodded and give a horse, "Yes!'

 

Anneka's smile quirked and she pulled him into her arms and onto the dance floor. After the first dance, Bard felt more at ease, even more so after the next and the one after. After half a dozen turns, she once again took a hold of him, leading him from the throng and then to a quiet, dark alleyway where she pulled him to her. Bard didn't put up much of a protest when she kissed him, or when she unlaced his trousers, lifted her skirts and guided him into her wet warmth. It was passionate and a bit rough, but they both found release and satisfaction.

 

 Anneka gently pushed him away and began to adjust her garments. Bard watched her, hastily lacing up his breeches, she was so calm and assured of herself. Bard suddenly wondered what she expected from him. "I don't want a wife!" Bard blurted out, while he had enjoyed what had just happened , he was in no hurry to get married.

 

Anneka turned to stare at him in disbelief. She shook her head and snorted. "Well that's good to know!" She flicked her skirts and with a smirk added, "I'm not looking for a husband!' She stood on tiptoe to kiss him before whirling away, calling back, "Thanks for the dance Bowman!"

 

 

When they stood before the whole town a few months later, reciting their vows, the priest binding their hands with the marriage ribbons, Anneka leaned into to Bard to whisper, "I still don't want a husband."

 

Bard didn't miss a beat, whispered back, "Good, cause I still don't want a wife!"

 

Anneka's smile was wide and they both affirmed their love and commitment to each other. Their life was full and happy. Bard knew others thought the marriage wouldn't last. But it did. Theirs was an unusual marriage. Anneka never called him Bard, it was always Bowman. Even in the throes of passion, she would call him her "archer" or "my love". Â At first it had bothered him, but then it became a game, to see if he could get her to call him Bard.

 

As the years went on and their family grew. They were happy and loved each other. It was the winter Tilda turned two. Anneka caught a cold, like so many that year. Except she didn't throw it off. She became weaker and weaker everyday. The pain in her chest became pain in her stomach. Nothing helped her, but she always had a smile for her family and for Bard. He hide how terrified he was from her and the children as best he could. He kept telling her she would get better, she would smile and kissed him, but they both knew it might not.

 

It was a warm summer night as she kissed her children, spoke to them with labored words, struggling to not let the pain take what she needed to say to them. Sigrid and Bain cried as she held them, told them how proud she was of them and then as briskly as her frail body would allow, told them that they needed to go play, it was a summer night and children should be playing. Both protested, but in her usual manner, shooed them off. When he slipped down next to her, hand clutching her's, willing his love and his health to flow into her, she squeezed his hand as hard as she could.

 

"It's time you let me go Bowman." She said, eyes brimming but tears unshed.

 

Bard shook his head, sniffing and wiping as his own tears flowed. She reached out and smoothed back a lock of his hair. She nodded, smile wavering, her voice more labored as she went on. "You listen to me...." She swallowed and winced. "You have been the best father, friend and lover....husband.... " She tightened her hand on his, tears finally falling as her voice dipped lower, "You were all I ever wanted....Bard." Bard sobbed and buried his head into her side and held her hand until it no longer held his back. He stood and went to find his children, to gather them into his arms and hold them as she was seen too.

 

 

Bard shifted, wiping away tears. Sigrid clung to him. Bain sniffed and stared into the fire. He had told them, granted leaving out the more sensual parts, but he hoped it shed light on their relationship. Sigrid pulled back and gave him a teary smile.

 

"Thanks Da." She said softly. "I always wondered why Ma called you Bowman."

 

"Your Ma never did hold with traditional ideas." Bard laughed and kissed her. "We didn't need to call each other husband and wife, we lived it and we knew it in our hearts."

 

Bain stirred and looked at Bard. "So, is that how it is with you and Thranduil?"

 

Bard blinked, not sure how to respond. Bain went on, "I mean... you love him and he loves you but....but are you going to get married, are you already married in your hearts? " Bain glanced quickly at Renna, who looked away. "And if so...what happens when you...." Bain gulped hard, "when you....die? What happens to us? To Thranduil?" Before Bard could even answer, Bain jumped up. "What's the point in falling in love with someone, it will only led to pain!?" He demanded and stormed off.

 

 

"Bain!" Sigrid called out but he didn't stop.

 

She jumped up but Bard caught her hand. "Let him be, Sig." Bard said, noticing that Renna was no longer there. "He needs some alone time."

 

 Sigrid frowned but nodded. With a sigh she kissed him and said she was going to bed. Bard agreed. Bain's words followed him to his tent. Bard laid down on his bed roll and was suddenly unsure. What was he doing? Would Thranduil and he marry? And what did he have to offer Thranduil? Their love was new and exciting, yet he was not a young man. How many more years did he have? 20? 30? He would only grow weaker and more infirmed, leaving Thranduil to have to care for a totteringÂ old man. Bard closed his eyes, his heart aching as he thought about it. How could he ask Thranduil to do that? He couldn't possibly do that. Thranduil was immortal and he was not. As much as he loved Thranduil, he didn't want him to have to suffer in watching him grow old and die. Bard hated to even think it....yet there was only one thing he could do. Better to end it now, before it got to the point where they couldn't move on. Bard swallowed the lump, tears burning in his eyes. He was afraid that it was already too late.


	3. Chapter Three

Midday had already came when Thranduil awakened. He held his hand to his heart, then to his neck. They still hurt. When he went to wipe the sweat and sleep from his eyes, he felt drying tears. His dream was one that he had before. It dealt in darkness, magic, and above all doubt. He blinked several times to banish it from his mind. The problem was it had never been this profound before. He sat up, closing his eyes, and calming himself.

 

He was a warrior. This dream was an enemy of sorts, and he had to defeat it. He only prayed he would not have it when Bard was there. There were nights when he had awakened from it screaming. He knew if that was the case, he knew Bard would ask what could be causing him such dismay, and because he vowed to himself before he decided to pursue this course with Bard, that he would withhold nothing from him he would have to tell him.

 

How much of it would he have to tell him? It merged the past, present and future. For a fleeting moment he thought of seeing his elf-witch cousin, Galadriel. To look into her mirror. But he did not need her water mirror. Like all of his kind, he knew of the ancient magic. He knew how to see many places and times at once. He had already done so. It took him 2 moons to recover.

 

He opened his eyes and pushed the dream back to his subconscious. He would have to deal with it later. He got up and went to his lavatory and took care of his immediate needs and washed his face and hands. Uruvion and his wife were in the next room talking and arranging things. Uruvion came forward with a slight bow to make his way into the bedroom to pick out Thranduil's outfits for the day. Two would be picked. As Bard may come late in the night if he chose to spur on, he wanted to have something ready to be sure he could greet his guest and his party regally enough.

 

Thranduil greeted Uruvion's wife with a thanks as she brought his breakfast to him and uncovered it. The food, though he knew it to be delicious, had little flavor to him. His spirit was still too disturbed. A knock sounded softly on the door and he bid the pageboy to come in. After entering, bowing he handed Thranduil a message that was clearly from the elven escort with Bard. He waved his hand in dismissal and the boy promptly left.

 

Thranduil opened the letter and seen it confirmed his earlier theory that if they could keep the pace they were going with small breaks for the little ones, elderly, and pregnant women, they could be there before the night feast itself began. A brief smile and thrill went through Thranduil at the idea.

 

But there was a post script which made Thranduil's smile turn into a frown and then a scowl. It said first that for some reason or another 'his lordship Bard, and his two eldest children' seemed heart heavy. Bard especially. As if the earlier fire he had to get everyone there had been dampened in someway. The second thing to note was the confirmation of the rumor that there was indeed a damned dwarf in the party! Thranduil looked up from the message with a roll of his eyes as he drummed his fingers for a moment on the table. He flicked the message aside soured by the post script news.

 

"Ilasaline, talk sense to me," he muttered quietly to Uruvion's wife.

 

"I beg your pardon, sir?" she asked with raised eyebrows looking up from a pile of linens that needed mending.

 

Thranduil looked at her disheartened and slightly aggravated. He needed advice, and Uruvion, though a best friend in a way, did not have the emotional touch that his wife did. "For one thing, he's bring a *dwarf*." He seen her make a face at this before she forced it back into a neutral expression. "Why would he do that?" Thranduil asked opening his arms in a gesture of uncertainty.

 

"Was there any complaints in the letter about the dwarf's behavior other than he *is* a dwarf, sir?" She asked with narrowed eyes. Thranduil shook his head. She nodded as she spoke, "Well, then I wouldn't worry about it much. I would trust the king's sensibilitiesÂ to know not to bring one those foolish sorts in here."

 

 

Thranduil just shrugged and sighed. "I suppose you're right."

 

She put her hands on her hips and came to stand directly in front of him. "What else is there? I can tell there's more to this than you're letting on my lord, Thranduil."

 

Thranduil chewed his bottom lip for a moment. But he knew Ilasaline wouldn't breech his trust. Who would she talk to about it other than Uruvion? "They mentioned Bard seemed rather suddenly placid about getting here, whereas reports before had him almost breaking away from the guards he was so keen."

 

Her brow knitted in thought as she looked down, then up at Thranduil once more. She cocked her head to the side and shrugged, "Perhaps he caught a chill, sir?"

 

"His eldest children are also not so enthusiastic to get here." Thranduil muttered shutting his eyes tightly for a moment. What could have happened to them all?

 

She shook her head and regarded him, "Nerves, perhaps?"

 

He looked down at his plate of food, and began to spin the ring on his index finger around the digit. "Perhaps."

 

He heard her sigh and she stepped around the table and the next moment he was eye level with her as she bent down, auburn hair falling forward and dark blue eyes shining with concern. She put her hand on his. She whispered, "Bard loves you. He is human and yes, some of them treat love as a game, but everything I've seen and heard leaves me certain that he is not one of them. Whatever it is that has forced him to suddenly be solemn in his coming, I am certain it is not because he no longer lovesÂ you." She squeezed his hand tighter when she seen a tear began to fall from Thranduil's eye.

 

He looked at her, trying to force anymore from falling, then over at the door that led to the bedroom where Uruvion was calling out something to her. He couldn't even comprehend it though he heard it. All he heard was her breath answer, "No need to come out, he'll be in soon! He's finishing his meal!"

 

She didn't take her eyes from his. That was the problem with women. They could see straight into a person's heart if they wanted to. "Try and eat more. I know you probably don't have much of a stomach for it now, but please do." She stood and his eye followed hers as she did so, she spoke again in a soft voice, "If he is having second thoughts - yes, I know that is what is going through your mind- then you will have to make him understand he doesn't need to. He will be doing it out of selflessness, as what I have heard of him, I would expect it to be for no other reason... You have to tell him the whole of everything. *All* of it. The magic you performed to See. What you saw. Your choice. You opened your heart to him, let him see the the depth of it..." She looked away tears forming in her eyes, "He will have to see that he will kill you all too soon if he deserts you, my king. He has to understand it was done before you both made love to one another." She shrugged, and tried to smile, "It's done. Many worry what will come of us - but I do not. I know you already have made a plan. So I will not worry of that. I will only mourn the loss of you when it happens. But I will not let him take you from us before it is time! Yours or his!"

 

She nodded her head determinedly, and stepped away, with a glance over her shoulder as she barked, "Eat!"

 

She went back to her linens at that. Thranduil squeezed his eyes shut, bringing his index finger to his lips and biting. Yes, it was done, and all his people knew the consequences of it. If Bard was having second thoughts, he didn't know how but he would have to persuade him otherwise. He could not go through another premature heartbreak! It *would* kill him. Watching Bard grow older, as Thranduil had set him mind and heart that he would, he had found solace in it. Better old age and years of memories to bring them joy than seeing him snatched away as Evawen had been. He winced at the memory. Another thing to be beaten back into his subconscious. He glanced at his full plate. He didn't feel like eating now. But Ilasaline was right, he had to eat. Losing strength because he was starving himself to death due to worry would do no one any good. Shaking and blinking back the last of his tears, he took the spoon in hand, scooped up some fruit, and put it to his mouth.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

With a heavy sigh, Bard threw off the blanket and sat up. He stretched and twisted, trying to work out the ache in his back and shoulders which wouldn’t go away. His sleep had been restless, filled with dreams of pain and suffering. He couldn’t stop thinking about Anneka, his children, and above all- Thranduil.

 

Thranduil….

 

Bard rolled his head and with another deep sigh, stood and grabbed his traveling cloak and exited the tent. Dawn was still hours away but it seemed that most of the camp was already awake. Bard knew the elven guards and escorts would be, as they seemed to need little sleep, yet he was surprised to see so many of his own court busy breaking down tents, preparing the breakfast and generally getting ready to get moving. The halls of Mirkwood awaited and everyone was eager to be done with traveling.

 

Bard dismissed the notion that people seemed tense; he put that down to his own mood. He smiled and quietly greeted those up and about. He tired to quell the growing anxiety at seeing Thranduil and the conversation that they needed to have. What had started out as a joyous trip was now a journey of dread for him. What choice did he have? A small voice in his head reminded him that there were always many choices, nothing was black and white.

 

Bard shook his head, a ghost of a smile at the voice, which sounded very much like Anneka. Bard’s worry about Thranduil was chased out of his mind when he saw Bain. His son was up and seemed like he had slept as poorly as Bard. Instead of seeing to the cart that he had been driving, Bain was saddling a horse, his face grim at the task. Bard approached him.

 

Bain glanced over and gave a sharp nod and a terse good morning. “So riding this morning?” Bard said, trying to keep things light. Bain snorted. Bard pushed down his irritation at his son. “Bain….”

 

“Look Da,” Bain exhaled in a huff, “I’m sorry about last night…I shouldn’t have yelled….it’s just…just I don’t know what to do….things are…complicated.” Bain finished with a sad voice. Were they ever, Bard thought.

 

Bard peered at his son, who avoided his gaze. Bard knew only too well what that complication was: Renna. When Legolas arrived in Dale six weeks ago, he came with the elven guards that would escort them to Mirkwood. Bain was immediately taken with them. At first it was just his excitement at these young elves, who were just as eager to form friendships with the youth of Dale. Bain and Renna had taken to each other instantly, having common interests and the same sense of humor. Bard was happy that they got along so well. Bard’s concern only arose when he found out that Bain was no longer interested in Hanna. Bain spent much of his time with Renna. Bard was hardly in a position to lecture his son on falling in love with an elf.

 

Bain had laughed when Bard asked him if he had feelings for the Silvan. Bain assured Bard that they were just friends, nothing more. Bard was sure that that was no longer the case. Bain was in love, the only question was if Renna returned those feelings.

 

“I’m alright, Da…I just….I just need some space.” Bain said. Bard peered at his son, who finally held his gaze. “Please Da.” Bard pulled Bain into a hug and was pleased when Bain hugged him back and muttered “Sorry if I upset you….I really do like Thranduil…I’m glad you found someone.”

 

 

Bard pulled away and gave Bain what he hoped was an happy smile, though he felt like he was going to be sick. “Right,” Bard said briskly, “I’ll let you get back to packing and we’ll talk later.”

 

Bain gave his father a critical look but didn’t say anything as Bard walked away. Bard was on his way to see if Sigrid and Tilda were up when he was brought up short at the sight of Ginmul and Renna in front of the dwarf’s tent. They were speaking in low, hushed tones but there could be no doubt that the topic was a charged one. When Ginmul glanced over, seeing Bard, Renna flushed and quickly moved away. Ginmul shook his head and came over to Bard.

 

“Good morning Lord Bowman.” The young dwarf greeted him. Bard nodded.

 

“Is everything alright?” Bard asked.

 

Ginmul gave a weary smile. Bard liked the young dwarf. He was soft spoken, quick with a smile and cheerful attitude, and above all, patient and caring. It wasn’t hard to like him.

 

“Hmmmm, that is yet to be seen Lord Bowman.” Ginmul replied and quickly added, “I am sure things will be better once we get settled in Mirkwood.”

 

Bard arched his eyebrow at the vague answer. He would have pressed Ginmul except he saw Lathai coming towards them.

 

“Good Morning Lathai.” Bard called out. The elven guard greeted both.

 

“My Lord Bowman, may I have a word with you?” Lathai asked. Bard inclined his head to the elf to speak.

 

Ginmul took leave of them with a mumbled “I should be getting ready….”

 

“What is it, Lathai?” Bard said giving the elf his attention.

 

“I do not mean to be forward, my Lord,” Lathai began, hesitating to speak, which Bard waved a hand for him to continue. “It would seem that most are awake and already breaking camp…so….”

 

“So you were wanting to get on the way?” Bard finished.

 

Lathai nodded in relief. Bard almost laughed. “Eager to get home and away from all these course humans”

 

Bard teased. “Yes! I mean no, my Lord…. Of course not…it’s just…” Lathai babbled.

 

This time Bard laughed, he had never seen an elf flustered. He reached out and patted the elf on the arm. “It’s alright Lathai, I know what you mean.” Bard assured him.

 

Lathai smiled in relief. “If we leave now, we will reach the royal halls before nightfall, earlier then they expect and…I would be able to surprise my wife with my early return.” Lathai finished, cheeks flushing.

 

“Well that alone is reason to get a move on!” Bard grinned and winked at the elf, “Always a bonus to be able to surprise a loved one!”

 

Lathai’s smile was radiant as he nodded in agreement. “It is!” Lathai chimed, “And Lord Thranduil will be just as surprised and pleased too! Something that doesn’t happen often.”

 

“Yes…well we had better get to it then.” Bard said weakly. Lathai nodded and went to oversee the breaking of camp. Bard swallowed hard at the lump in his throat. In a few hours time he would be once again with Thranduil. Any joy at the thought was tempered with the knowledge that it might possibly be the last time he would see his elf.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil becomes aware of problem in his forest that may be bigger - and darker than he originally thought. Bard and Thranduil meet. As Thranduil is called to meet a foe, Bard has a revelation of his own.

Thranduil drummed his fingers on the table as another one of his courtiers droned on about taxes needing to be raised for his lands *again* to fuel costs that were supposedly for the south border which he oversaw. Thranduil knew it was just a greedy ploy for the elf to gather more fineries for himself and his family. His daughter was dead set on marrying *somebody* before the century was out, and she had her sights fixed on Legolas.

 

As he finished up, and Thranduil cocked his head to the side with an arched brow. "I will go over the expenses of your lands personally my Lord Melaion, but for now I must beg your patience and your leave. There *are* others who have been patiently waiting for weeks to have an audience. I must see to them."

 

He gave the Lord a fixed look that clearly conveyed the fact the conversation was over. The Lord returned it with a momentary sour expression, before producing a fake smile. He bowed as he said in an overly sweet voice, "Of course my king."

 

He exited swiftly, and Thranduil bid the next person to enter. At the sight of the common clothing that was unusually worn and tattered his brow knitted with concern as a family entered with 2 small elf-children. All had bronze colored hair, but the children both had mismatched blue and green eyes. Both parents had blue. The children would undoubtedly be gifted. He would have to ask of they could be schooled in the ancient arts later.

 

The tattered clothing was what concerned him the most. Wild and dangerous his forest was, but more skilled and careful were his elves... all of them.

 

"Forgive us my lord,... my king," the man stumbled obviously nervous, as they all bowed. "I come over a matter of the wood." Thranduil’sÂ brow furrowed more, and he waved his hand for him to continue. "I am a lumber clearer and spice gatherer, and well, of late there is just too much wood to clear and more spiders…Â and something else seems to move through the wood to interfere with my work. I wanted to beseech you..." The man's eyes lowered and he stopped, obviously disturbed by what he wanted to ask.

 

Thranduil waited a moment before he spoke to reassure him that his request would not fall on deaf ears, "Please go on dear sir. I assure you, whatever you ask of me, I will gladly consider."

 

Heartened, the man gave a ghost of a smile as his wife grabbed his hand momentarily, and then laid a hand each on a shoulder of her children. "If you would consider possibly letting a small guard come to our area now and then to help clear the cursed spiders from my area of work and my friends as I am not the only one affected by this...and also possibly " he paused, and shifted nervously from foot to foot. Thranduil had to wave a hand to encourage him to continue. "... possibly giving a blessing to our work."

 

Thranduil listened intently to all this, the last request was unusual. He didn't ask for a spell, but a blessing... but he did catch the man's speedily given explanation and request, which piqued his interest. When the man fell silent, he had to take moment to think of the right response. A small host of troops was fine, but he said something else was there. He gave the man a smile as he answered, "Of course, a host may accompany you back and rid your area of the spiders that are there." A wave of relief washed over the elf-man and it was very apparent by the set of his shoulders relaxing. "But I wanted to verify... you want a blessing over your area, not a spell?"

 

The man hastily nodded and began fidgeting. Thranduil's brow quirked at this, and he couldn't help the images of his earlier dream springing to his mind briefly and he involuntarily shivered. "Then you have my eternal blessing over the paths you travel, to your work, to your friends,and home."

 

The man and his family gave him one of the most radiant smiles he had seen in six weeks. "It will not be in vain, your lordship."

 

Thranduil nodded an acknowledgment, then asked in a quiet voice, "You mentioned something else is interfering with your work." The man and his family gave each other wary looks before the man nodded.

The man and his family gave each other wary looks before the man nodded wringing his hands nervously. "What is it? Another foul beast? Orcs? The river's spell?" Thranduil tried to lead him on the man just kept shaking his head. Growing impatient Thranduil's voice was a little more harsh than he intended, "Well? Please enlighten me..." The family stepped back and Thranduil took a deep breath and calmed his temper. "Forgive me, you are at no risk of harm. But understand a matter of the wood is of vital importance to me. If something sinister has entered it, I need to know."

 

Seeing her husband continue to hesitate in answering, his wife spoke up in a small voice, "We do not know what it is sire. It does not necessarily harm us, but it... it is hard to explain sire. It is unseen. A presence. Sometimes people see a shadow of something half human and half animal."

 

"Illaiel! Please!" The man exclaimed trying to silence his wife, but with a wave of his hand, she pressed on stepping away from her husband.

 

Thranduil leaned forward and gave her his full attention, putting a finger to his lips when he seen her husband begin to come forward to pull her back and try to quiet her. She looked behind her for a second then took another step forward. "Go on."

 

"It... does not do anything directly to us. But tools are moved, poisonous mushrooms grow where a tap would be put on a healthy tree a day before. The thing.... feels unsettling. Plus there are dreams. All of us have them... but my children especially. We sometimes wake screaming. All of them say one message to get your blessing to work, else it would not leave us be."

 

 

Sickness settled in Thranduil's stomach. He nodded as he held the woman's eyes. "Thank you for telling me, and you have my blessing tenfold in your work. All of you."

 

He raised his hand to dismiss them but she exclaimed suddenly, "We're not making it up nor are mad my lord! Please believe me!"

 

"Illaiel!" Her husband shouted.

 

Thranduil held a hand up to silence them. "I do believe you Illaiel. May I ask what the shadow looks like...?" Thranduil looked away momentairly.

 

The little girl in the group spoke then, "A nine-tailed fox with a man's face and chest."

 

Thranduil's lip trembled. "I believe you." He looked up at the others, and nodded, as he repeated "I believe you. You clear and gather from the area where Evawen..."

 

He didn't finish. He didn't need to. He knew the answer before they even began frantically nodding their heads. He motioned to one of his pages. "Take these fellows to get some new clothes and a hardy meal. Line their bags with food and cloth to replace what they wear now. They and their kin."

 

Â The page nodded and led them away. He gave an order to a guard to arrange for a small host to accompany them back. He shut his eyes. He believed them for he knew what it was they seen. Some time later he dismissed the assembly and retired to his rooms.

 

Â It was just starting to glow soft and pink above the canopy where his rooms overlooked. He heard the entourage approaching before he heard the horns. He smiled and did his best to quiet his spirit. One horn belonged to the guard of Dale.

 

Uruvion must have heard it as well, as did the rest of his staff. Not a second later Uruvion came bustling in, and ushered him to the lavatory, while outside the footfalls of maids and footmen rushed about like thunder to his ears. He was quickly and methodically dressed, then with a quick look over the gold and brown finery Thranduil was sent on his way to greet his human love. They would still be a short ride off,Â and Thranduil intended to meet them the rest of the way.

 

He and his personal guard bustled through the corridors and out to the stables. Mounting his great elk he spurred ahead,Â his guard trailing behind. He could have only ridden half an hour when the glints of the entourage was in view.Â He rode on but 20 more minutes and there was Bard! He was riding the black stallion Thranduil had gifted him. His son, astride the stallion's mare. They followed the silver and blue caravan of Dale, which contained according to the endless chants of "It's Thran! It's Thran!", and another's giggling Tilda and Sigrid.

 

Tilda poked her head out the next second continuing her chant before Bard rode up alongside it and ordered her to get her head back in the carriage before she lost it. The next second Bard's eyes met Thranduil's. A smile came to his face, but it wasn't as broad or as excited as Thranduil imagined, and his eyes were sad. It made Thranduil halt his elk and nearly forget to tell his guard to stop behind him. Fleeting despair went through him as his earlier fears surfaced briefly. He raised his hand in greeting, which Bard returned, and spurred forward.

 

 

 

 

The sight of Thranduil astride his elk was as impressive as the first time Bard had seen him sweeping into the ruins of Dale. Despite his resolve to control his feelingsÂ for Thranduil, his heart was pounding with both excitement and dread. As Thranduil raised his hand in greeting, Bard could see a tightness in it. Bard's own return greeting was just as strained. As Bard came forward, he wondered if perhaps Thranduil had already come to the same conclusion he had. That while they loved each other, it was folly to let it go further. Bard found himself angered by the thought. He knew that it was a sound decision, that it was the right thing to do for the both of them, but the idea that Thranduil was going to break it off upset him. He was being unreasonable, he told himself. Why did it matter who broke it off? The only thing that mattered was that they do so. Bard couldn't stop the ache in his heart that Thranduil felt the same way. God's, Bard sighed, he was being an idiot. He forced a smile but it didn't reach his eyes, which filled with sadness at what he was losing.

 

"King Thranduil." Bard said as he reigned in his stallion, a gift from Thranduil, which he briefly wondered if he would have to return.

 

As Bard came abreast of Thranduil they reached out to grasp each other hand. "King Bowman, Welcome to Mirkwood." Thranduil said.

 

It was formal and proper. Bard hadn't expected it to be anything other then that. No falling over each other in a frenzy of passion, that would have happened later, behind closed doors. Bard swallowed at that thought.Â Except that wouldn't happen now.

 

Thranduil went on to greet and welcome his people as well, he bade them to make Mirkwood their home and to enjoy the woodland realm. Bard smiled at the excited hum that ran through his people. While this would be painful for him, it would be a treat for his people. He would find happiness in that at least.

 

As the carts began to file past the royal guards, Tilda practically jumped out of hers as it came up to Thranduil. Bard's heart jumped in fear at his daughter’s reckless leap at Thranduil. Thranduil effortlessly caught her and swung her up onto his elk. The sight of Tilda hugging Thranduil was too much. Bard looked away. His wasn't the only heart that would be hurt. Tilda was still just a little girl, she would get over it, Bard told himself. He willed himself to believe that. Because he was trying to tell himself that *he* would get over it too.

 

Bard glanced over, Tilda was now settled in front of Thranduil. A chuckle erupted from him. Tilda watched the entourage passing, like she was Queen over them all. Thranduil caught his eye, winking, and for a moment it was as if there was nothing amiss between them. How Bard wished that things could be different.

 

As the last of the royal court of Dale passed, Thranduil fell behind the convoy and Bard spurred his stallion to match the pace of the mighty elk. It wasn't a long trek to the gates of the Mirkwood caverns but to Bard it felt like a lifetime. Once they passed through those stately arches, he wouldn't be able to put off what he dreaded doing. Bard closed his eyes briefly as he rode under the arches and entered Thranduil's realm.

 

 

Once they "Officially" arrived, there was what Bard thought of as controlled chaos. Elves and humans off loading baggage, goods and the buzz of excited voices. Horses nickeredÂ and had to be reined in and calmed. Bard allowed himself a moment of enjoyment, watching how his people stared in wide eyed wonder at Thranduil's halls. Bard had been here once before, when he was a bargeman. While it had been a brief moment, he had been just as wide-eyed. And they hadn't even seen the main halls and all the twisting walkways, the tinkling of waterfalls and the most magnificentÂ glory- Thranduil's throne. Bard dismounted, handing the reigns to an elf waiting to take the stallion to the stables.

 

 

Bard's nerves felt raw as he stood there watching Thranduil direct his elves, his deep voice calling out orders and commanding attention. In short order, all of Bard's people were escorted to their quarters that would be home for the next month. Even his children were gathered and then it was just Thranduil and himself before the closed doors. Bard's stomach lurched when Thranduil's eyes met his.

 

Love and worry shone there. Bard took a deep breath as Thranduil approached him. Bard started to speak, to thank Thranduil for all he had done, but Thranduil pulled him intoÂ himÂ and kissed him deeply. Bard stiffened, he should stop the kiss, a kiss he had been longing for.Â He started to push Thranduil away when instead his hands slipped up to Thranduil's neck and he gave himself up to the kiss. If this would be the last time it happened, then let it be a long and passionate kiss. Bard poured his love and longing into the kiss. Thranduil returned it, pushing Bard until his back came up against the cavern wall, pressing himself into Bard. Bard moaned as he felt the proof of Thranduil's desire, just as his own body was responding.

 

"Lord Thranduil!" Came a shout from an elven scout.

 

Thranduil toreÂ himself away from Bard with a growl of irritation. Bard was relieved and a bit thankful. Them kissing wouldn't ease what he had to do. It only made it harder to do. Bard gave Thranduil a weak smile as the elf come rushing up to them.

 

The scout bowed. "Forgive me, my Lord, but the spiders...." Thranduil's irritationÂ turned to cold fury at the mention of the foul creatures. "It is as you feared, they have swarmed and are boldly approaching."

 

Thranduil's rage was frightening to behold. Thranduil quickly ordered the scout to gather more warriors and they would dispatch them swiftly. Bard shook his head at the thought of Thranduil going out to face them.

 

"I will come with…!" Bard told him.

 

Thranduil turned, his fury still burning in his eyes but he cupped Bard's face and shook his head at his offer. "No, my love, you have never faced a great spider, we have." Thranduil kissed Bard gently. Bard started to protest again when Thranduil gave him a hard look and even firmer shake of his head. "Please, Bard, go with Uruvion and rest. I will be back soon. Knowing that you are here, safe and waiting, is what I need for this battle."

 

Â Bard exhaled and nodded. Thranduil was right of course. Bard would just be in the way and possiblyÂ be more of a hindranceÂ then help. Thranduil gave a terse nod and called out for Uruvion, who appeared before his name had barely left Thranduil's lips. Both watched as Thranduil and the rest of the warriors streamed out of the gates and forward to battle.

 

 

"Come Lord Bowman," Uruvion said softly. "I will show you to your quarters." Uruvion motioned for him to follow. Bard hesitated as the great gates closed. "He will be alright, Bard." Bard turned, looking at Uruvion in surprise. Never had Thranduil's valet called him by his first name. "Forgive me, Lord Bowman." Uruvion corrected himself.

 

Bard waved it away. "It's alright Uruvion." Bard said as he slowly moved away from the gates and followed the elf. "I much preferÂ to be addressed as Bard."

 

The elf nodded. Bard glanced back at the gates, worry at what Thranduil faced made his stomach turn. Even if he was breaking things off between them as lovers, he stilled cared for Thranduil, didn't want to see him or any of his people hurt or worse. His stomach dipped at that thought.

 

"Uruvion, what did the scout mean about Thranduil expecting them to attack?" Bard asked.

 

 

The spiders of Mirkwood had come up when they had entered the eaves of the forest, it was the chief topic and worry of the company as they traveled, but there was no sighting of them. Lathai told Bard that the spiders never ventured so close to the Old Road and they were safe. Except Bard couldn't help but notice that Lathai did not look him in the eyes when he said it. So Bard kept a watchful eye out as they traveled.

 

"Uruvion?" Bard pressed. "I thought that the spiders didn't come this far into Mirkwood?"

 

"They don't, usually." Uruvion sighed, "Lord Thranduil worried that they would be attracted to the commotion of your party. We rarely have such large groups traveling throughÂ our woods," Uruvion added with contempt, "the last time the spiders dared enter so close to our kingdom was when Thorin Oakenshield and his company riled them up." Bard gave Uruvion a wry glance, which Urvuion returned. "While you and yours are not those foolish Dwarves, Thranduil did not discount the fact that the spiders might make an attempt."

 

Bard nodded at this. He wondered if this was the real reason Lathai wanted to hurry them along, not just his eagerness to see his wife.

 

Bard chided himself on such a churlishÂ thought. If Lathai *had* omitted the full truth, it was most likely due to not wanting to cause panic. Bard couldn't blame him for that. His people had been rather tense with all the talk of spiders, so he put the matter aside. Bard's worries about Thranduil fighting the giant creatures were also pushed back as they emerged into the heart of the Woodland Realm. Bard stood gaping at the sight. He had only seen the lower regions, the docks and storage rooms, which were impressive, this....this was glorious. The golden light, the rushing of water, and the high archways soaring overhead. It was hard to believe they were underground. Uruvion smiled at Bard.

 

"Impressive." Bard finally said. "It will take some getting used to those walkways."

 

Uruvion actually laughed at this. Bard grinned, glad to see the smile on his face. In all the time Uruvion had been in Dale, Bard had never heard him laugh or smile. It was nice to see and hear him laugh. "Come Bard," Uruvion chuckled, "You will get used to them soon enough."

 

 

As they made their way throughÂ the halls, Bard noticed many elves, following, whispering to each other, some craningÂ their necks to see them. More than a few pointing at him. Bard smiled but was beginningÂ to feel like there was something he was missing. They all seemed excited over his appearance.

 

Bard kept catching them saying "Arat herven!" or "Ennas na-hir Thranduil's herven" Bard knew it was about him but what they were saying was what he wanted to know. He tried to ask Uruvion but the valet seemed to be deaf to him. The curious elves fell away as Uruvion led him up a soaring archway, which ended at double doors where two guards stood before.

 

"Your quarters my Lord." Uruvion said as they drew abreast of them, the guards opening the doors for them to enter.

 

Bard's breath was caught as he entered. There could be no doubt on where he was. Thranduil's private rooms. Bard was about to protest, that he couldn't stay here when a woman came out of what was most likely Thranduil's bedroom carrying a bundle of clothing.

 

Her face beamed as she saw Uruvion. "Herven!" She called out. B

 

ard frowned, there was that word again! Uruvion glanced at Bard before crossing to briefly kiss her. She turned to Bard addressing him "Welcome, Lord Bowman, arat herven!"

 

Â Bard's smile was confused, but he murmured a greeting back. "Forgive me, but what does herven mean?" Bard blurted out. It was niggling at him, having heard it directed at him and now at Uruvion.

 

Uruvion's wife gave him an amused look and before Uruvion could stop her said" "Husband of course!"

 

Bard blinked rapidly at this. Husband? HUSBAND?! "What...who....What do you mean?" Bard babbled at her.

 

"Why you are Lord Thranduil's royal husband, what else could I mean?" She said, shaking her head at the foolish question. Obviously the human was tired and needed to rest. "Come Lord Bowman, you are tired and should rest before the feast." Bard numbly allowed her to steer him to the room she had just come from. His guess was right, Thranduil's massive bed awaited him, which she guided him too, gently pushing him to sit. "Rest, Lord Bowman." Bard nodded at her, she smiled and with a playful wink said, "It might be the only chance you get to!"

 

And with that she whirled and left Bard to his racing thoughts. HUSBAND! THRANDUIL AND I ARE MARRIED???

 

Bard couldn't even begin to process it..... Well....this certainly changed what he was going to say to Thranduil. Bard froze....what was he going to say?? Bard took a deep breath and tried to calm the onset of emotionsÂ that were starting to run riot. The one thing he kept coming back to was: Thranduil is my husband!

 

Slowly a smile began to spread on his lips.....Husbands.......


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil returns from his skirmish with the spiders. Bard wrestles with his emotions.

Dispatching the spiders was swift, but tiring. There were so many this time.

 

Thranduil sent a rider ahead to let others know they could start setting the feasting tables, and to Bard to let him know he was okay. A moment took him where he wondered at Bard's mood when he greeted him. It was quickly dismissed with the thoughts of how he reacted when they were finally able to kiss. A turn on his lips appeared when he thought of it.

 

As they made their way back he thought of the night ahead. He wondered if Bain was happy in the guest quarters reserved for kings and elf lords, Tilda happy in the nursery that had been redesigned just for her from Legolas' boyhood time. Legolas' had overseen that himself while Thranduil had been in Dale.

 

Sigrid, he had chosen to let her have the dowager queen's quarters. His mother has sailed west an age ago in the hopes of meeting Oropher's reborn self there. He hadn't changed much to those rooms. He figured Sigrid was old enough to choose her own finishes. He mused that he would need to let her know the room was hers to do with as she saw fit.

 

Bain he would gift the room to that he was in, if he liked it. He didn't know Bain well. He had spent more time with Bard's daughters as they were always inside or in the gardens of Dale. Whereas Bain was always out and about unless called in to do otherwise.

 

The dwarf in the party was not the usual sort. More like a younger more handsome version of Balin from Erebor. With a frown Thranduil also mused over the fact that this dwarf was obviously infatuated with Sigrid. This wasn't something loathsome to him in the idea, he seemed the sort that if she returned it he would be devoted to her, but it was more of a fact that a fatherly instinct was kicking in.

 

He resolved to having a talk with both of them separately and privatelyÂ if the other path did not play out... Bard would probably choose not to interfere. Thranduil on the other hand knew from experience it was best to have things in their place before anything was out of control. Especially emotions. The worst things to keep in place at all. He would not tell them what to do, only advise that the dwarf be mindful of her youth, and if she is favorable to his attentions, that she be mindful of her virtue and be absolutely sure before she committed to anything.... or anyone.

 

 

When finally the bridge of his home was in view he finally let relief wash over him. Soon... soon, he will be by his love's side. Soon he will have him there to hopefully drive away his fears that Bard no longer wanted him... that he had given his heart and very life away in vain.

 

As he crossed his eye was caught by a flash of white on the bank below - an orb of light. All of the elves seen it and merely nodded in acknowledgment. It swelled brighter for a second, obvious in its greeting and they rode on, as shaped like a fox it fleeted from one patch of grass to the other. Thranduil knew that particular spirit held no ill towards them at all. It was the other one where his Evawen died that rested heavily in the back of Thranduil's mind.

 

After he crossed, dismounted and gave the reins to a waiting stable hand he went through his open doors. The lamps were already lit. The hum of people filing in ahead of him to the banquet hall. He needed to hurry. There would be no time now to talk and play any lover's games with Bard now.

 

As he made his way into the royal wing he began to get a batch of unsettled nerves. Whatever was going on with Bard would bother his mind until it was settled. So, late or not, it would be settled before they went down to the banquet hall. Else Thranduil would be too sick with worry to eat and have wit enough to give the necessary speeches and toasts. Bile came to his throat at a quick thought... what if Bard was sick? Terminally ill....? His step was consideratelyÂ faster at the thought, and he reached the hall where the children and his own rooms were in but a few minutes.

 

 

As he past the rooms Sigrid was in he seen the door was ajar, and with a delighted squeal she emerged a moment later, fully dressed in,Â and primped for the feast. She was followed by the stately figure of Faewen, the resident governess to the royal household and a lady's maid that served his mother. As she sprinted towards him in what he could tell was an Elven gown he took in her appearance and nodded with a quick smile at the ladies behind her. She threw her arms about him in an embrace that caught him off guard for a moment before he returned it.

 

"It's so beautiful! Can I really keep it?!" she exclaimed as she pulled away and twirled in a slow circle making the dress flare out. Blood red velvet it was with slits filled with orange satin in the pleats, the effect was pure fire when she twirled in the circle.

 

He nodded as he smiled at her, "Yes of course. I had it made just for you."

 

"Really?!"

 

Thranduil nodded and eyed the jewelry set she had on. Faewen came forward then. "I thought you would not mind her borrowing it for the night. She knows it was your mother's."

 

"I promise I will be careful."Sigrid said running her fingertips over the rubies and pearls about her neck and dangling from her ears.

 

Thranduil noticed for the first time just how beautiful she really was. She'd give even an elf maid a run for her game. Â "It is well, Faewen. AfterÂ all, my mother isn't here to wear them. So please feel free to make use of them." He turned his eye back to Sigrid. "If you keep them well, you may call all her jewelry sets yours."

 

Sigrid's mouth dropped open at this. All at once Bain appeared from the other side of the hallway and came forward, done up and washed proper in greens and blacks, not looking as delighted, but happy to see him when their eyes met. He wouldn't bother asking him if he liked his clothes, he knew since he couldn't rough about in them he didn't.

 

"I think I was given the wrong room Thran."

 

Thranduil gave him a confused look. "Why do you say that?"

 

"It looks like my dad's room!"

 

Thranduil tried to suppressÂ a laugh. "Well, if you wish to be put in another..."

 

Â "No!" Bain exclaimed. "It's awesome! There's swords and axes and stuff on the walls and..."

 

"So you like it then?" Thranduil asked laughing at this, looking up momentarily down the hall as Tilda emerged slowly and looking very... scared almost which killed his laughter.

 

Her nanny trailed behind. Then his eye went to the doors at the end of the hall opening to reveal Bard and Uruvion, and Uruvion wife. Bard gave him a smile then it turned to a frown as he looked at his youngest who was making her way to Thranduil with downcast eyes and something hidden behind her back. Bain was still happily talking about all the 'great stuff' in his room when Tilda finally was in front of him.

 

Thranduil bent down. She too was ready for the feast, all blue and petite looking like a doll almost. He reached out and played with a curl at her ear, "What's wrong little one?Do you not like your dress?"

 

She looked up at him then, eyes filled with recent tears. Thranduil frowned.

 

"I'm sorry." Tilda said eyes beginning to get misty again.

 

Her nanny bent down and laid two hands gently on her shoulders and spoke gently in her ear with a reassuring smile. "I told you little one, it is okay. Please show him dearest."

 

Thranduil's concern was lifted when Tilda brought the pieces of a broken wooden jewel box out from behind her back.

 

 

"I didn't mean to. I accidentallyÂ knocked it over when I was reaching for my doll."

 

Thranduil gave it a quick look over and motioned to Uruvion, who was already making his way forward. He then cupped Tilda's small cheek inÂ his hand and wiped a falling tear away with his thumb. "It's okay Tilda. It's just a box in the end. We'll see if it can be mended, and if not, we can always get another made. So please do not fret."

 

He gave her a smile and at this she gave him one I return, and flung her arms around his neck. He hugged her back then let her go, had her hand the broken box to Uruvion, and shooed her back to her nanny to finish getting ready.

 

The other two children were told to go back to their rooms for a couple minutes and they'll be called when it's time to go down. After watching them file their way back to their rooms, Thranduil strode forward with Uruvion behind him. Uruvion handed the broken box to the open palms of his wife who closed the door behind her once they entered.

 

Once they entered the bed chamber Thranduil gave Bard a look over and couldn't help reaching out to him, "My love..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Relief flooded throughÂ Bard when the message came that Thranduil and his warriors were all safe and on their way back. Bard’sÂ emotions had run riot while waiting for Thranduil's return. Happiness, fear, anger, excitement, and confusion. ConfusionÂ on the how, why and when this had happened? Not that it hadn't been on his mind.

 

Bard got up from the bed and went to his bags and rummaged in it till he found the small box and pulled it out. Before he came to the rude awakening of what he was asking of Thranduil, Bard had been preparedÂ to ask Thranduil to marry him. Bard opened the box. The glint of green twinkled in the amber lights. One of the emeralds of Girion. Bard had given them to Thranduil after the Battle but he had given them back, saying that they belonged to the heirs of Girion and be worn by the descendants. Bard had taken them to the Dwarves of Erebor, where they crafted his simple crown, necklaces for Sigrid and Tilda, a cloak clasp for Bain and a ring for himself and just before they left, a ring for Thranduil. Bard closed the box, gripping it tightly. It would seem that he didn't need to propose, somehow they were already married. Bard couldn't help feel a bit miffed at this. Didn't he get a say in any of this? To be fair, they hadn't really fully discussed their relationship, where they saw it going or had a chance too.

 

 

Bard flopped back down on the bed with a groan. He thought he had a grip on what needed to happen between them and now...now he was right back to struggling with his feelings. He loved Thranduil, loved him like nothing he had felt before. But he feared so much for Thranduil. When Thranduil had spoken about his first love, Bard could see how much the death of his lover effected Thranduil. How could he put Thranduil throughÂ that again?

 

A gentle knock at the door had him up and moving to the door as it opened. Uruvion didn't seem surprised to see him up. "Thranduil has returned." He simplyÂ said.

 

Bard nodded, he could hear the excited voices of Sigrid and Bain in the corridor. Bard willed his nerves to settle down. Uruvion and his wife exchanged looks as Bard opened the door to face Thranduil and his children.

 

His smile brief as Tilda approached Thranduil. Oh Valar! His heart skipped watching Thranduil ease her fear and tears. He swallowed the lump and quickly returned to the chambers with Thranduil right behind him.

 

 

"My love...." Thranduil's deep voice, the look he gave Bard.

 

Bard took a step towards him involuntary, wanting to close the distance, in more ways then one. Except, Bard clenched his hands and hardened his resolve. "Don't you mean *husband*?" Bard demanded. The minute the words left his mouth, Bard regretted the way they sounded, so filled with bitterness and petty anger.

 

 

"I don't understand Thranduil," Bard softened his voice, it wouldn't help either of them if he couldn't control his emotions. "Why does everyone think we are married?"


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil realizes the full intent of Bard's demand for answers, and with it plunges deep into heartbreak. With it he comes face to face with the creature who has been haunting his realm.

A sharp intake of breath was all Thranduil could manage at first.

 

It took his mind several moments to process the situation. At first all he could understand was that instead of taking his hand so he could bring him into the embrace he longed for and needed more than ever now, Bard was angry with him, and on top of it about something he thought was mutually understood. But why? Had he came all this way indeed to reject him? To fulfill his trade agreement and leave after the fulfillment of his promise to just show up were done?

 

The angry and stern expression on Bard's face confirmed just that, and before he caught himself he heard himself voicing his confusion, "I thought you knew..."

 

 

He turned away going to the bed and sitting down staring at the floor, his voice speaking his thoughts aloud before he could stop himself. "We proclaimed our love to the other... pledged ourselves... made love to the other..." Then he remembered the customs of man, and a hand came to his mouth as bile came up to it, and pain shot to his heart at everything. "I'm sorry. I forgot the customs of man...."

 

He looked up at Bard who seemed to be giving him a puzzled look over his words. Tears were threatening to form. "You did not come here to... be with me. You came here because you had to, and you wish to end it, don't you?"

 

He seen the flood of expressions wash over Bard's face confirming it, and as the man moved forward opening his mouth to speak, the bile came up to his mouth again - only he couldn't swallow it back again. Thranduil got up and ran to the lavatory and reached it just in time before his stomach emptied itself.

 

He heard Bard behind him. He couldn't tell if Bard was speaking. All he could do was feel. His heart felt like it was being ripped out, and his hand went to it. Physical pain was closing in around it, and he cried out not realizing it was actually a scream, just then feeling the tears that were running down his cheeks.

 

His senses vaguely were aware of Uruvion beside him. He looked up and he seen his mouth moving but no words. Another pain shot through him, bringing him to his knees, and he cried out again. Somehow he knew Bard was still there but where he didn't know. All he could do was feel the pain.... then all went black.

 

 

 

When he became conscious he became aware of the cold all about him. Stars were above him. Galaxies of them. Beneath his fingers he felt hardened earth. Then laughter. First it was male, then female, then male again.

 

"I've been waiting for you, Thranduil" a male voice said behind him.

 

Thranduil sat up and turned to it. He felt his body tense when he seen it. Sitting in the shadow on a log so that it's features were hidden save it's shape was the thing which had been haunting his dreams. The thing that the children that the lumber and spice gatherers children had spoken of. Fox ears shaped on top of its head, long hair that reached to his waist, a man's face, a naked torso, the legs and tail of a fox.

 

It stepped forward into the little bit of light, a wicked smile on its face. It's fur and skin was dark gray ash, and it's eyes glowed green like an exotic cat. Thranduil stood alarmed. His hands automatically went to the hilt of his sword as it circled him.

 

It gave him an amused look. "I thought you'd know by now, your pretty swords will be of no use here. Only the teeth of my own kind can harm me."

 

"What do you want from me?" Thranduil spat out.

 

"What everyone wants from another individual..." It stopped circling then and began to close the distance slowly between them, the features changing as it walked into a beautiful female version of itself. Then when it finally stood before him, it reached out with a smile, laying it's hand on his chest, "I want your devotion... Your heart."


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard faces the reality of Thranduil's situation; Thranduil at the cusp of life and death, faces the temptation of the fox-spirit and nirvana. What will he choose, life or death, or the realm in between?

Uruvion gathered his king into his arms, lifting him with some effort at the weight, and carried him to the bed. Ilasaline came running at that moment along with 2 guards. Uruvion dismissed them and threw an accusatory look at Bard.

 

 

He could tell that the man was in a silent panic as well as confused as to what was happening. Uruvion shook his head disgusted and said with obvious venom, as he got up and briskly made his way to the door "Why did you pledge yourself then lay with him if you did not intend to stay with him you foolish man?!"

 

His wife took one look at the figure on the bed when she reached it and fell to her knees beside it. In a quiet voice she asked, "What did you say to him? What did you do?"

 

She turned to look at Bard with this. Bard swallowed hard then softly answered in a concerned but perplexed voice, "I asked him why the people here thought we were married. Then I don't know...."

 

She watched as Bard's eyes darkened trying remember what was said and make sense of it, "All at once he asked me if I came here to break it off with him..."

 

"And did you?" Ilasaline cut in, asking point blankly.

 

Bard looked away with a guilty expression. She shut her eyes tight at this, and turned back to her king. "Why?"

 

"It wouldn't be fair to him. To watch me grow old and die... I couldn't do that to him. I still love him, but I couldn't make him go through that... Not again. But I never got to say it or explain anything... Please tell me what is happening..."

 

 

 Ilasaline scoffed at this and turned shaking her head, then raised it to look at him sadly. "You did not have to. He bound his soul to yours already. He could see it by just looking at you." She swallowed, "You will never have to." She stood and crossed the room laying a hand on his. "He had his mother to help him through the death of Celestre, Legolas to focus on after Evawen took her life. Legolas is grown now. He... has nothing else to tie him here now...." She looked deeply into his confused, hurt and concerned eyes which kept flicking more and more to the still figure behind them, "You really do not understand what happened... what IS happening, do you?"

 

Bard merely shook his head.

 

At this a bustle of people came in a moment later. Sigrid, Bain, Tilda, their maids and governess and nanny, Uruvion and a healer in tow. At seeing the form on the bed Sigrid grabbed Tilda and swung her around in an embrace to look away from him shouting 'don't look'. Her and Bain's eyes looked up at Bard in question.

 

The healer came forward, putting a hand to his wrist then leaning over to check his heartbeat. He spoke in elvish turning back to the crowd and Ilasaline stepped forward speaking to him at length about what Bard told her. He shook his head and with a sigh approached Bard who was nervously looking about and Ilasaline could clearly see was on the verge of tears.

 

"My lord, Bowman,"the healer said in articulated Universal language, being unused to not speaking in his Elvish dialect, "please send a messenger to Dale for Legolas. He needs to know his father is dying."

 

Uruvion who after hearing Ilasaline's explanation of the events had gone from angered and gruff to grief stricken and defeated. He was sure Bard knew what he was doing when he bound himself to Thranduil.... or at least what everyone in the Elvish lands thought was such. How foolish! He should have took Bard away privately to be sure! At hearing the healer's words an anguished cry erupted from Bard mixed with the word 'what'.

 

Uruvion ran forward and caught the man by the waist as he lurched forward towards the bed. His children were heard to make their own exclamations behind him. The healer continued talking, but Uruvion could tell it was on deaf ears so he paid attention if in them there was any way the words could save his lord as he held his king's 'mate' back, then up as he sank to the floor.

 

"You should find someone to explain the customs and very essence of our people. If you do truly love him my liege, you may be able to bring him back but it if there is any doubt of your love within you... I'm sorry... no. It will not work. He will die. He has no longer a will to live..."

 

 

The sounds in the room drowned out the healer's words at this. And with a roll of his eyes he shook his head and quietly left, only Uruvion and Ilasaline watching him go. Ilasaline suddenly remembered the children at hearing their outcries and questions and sobs, then sprang forward shouting at Faewen and Anariel "Take the children out! Get them away from here immediately!"

 

She and Uruvion exchanged looks, and with a joint effort they lifted Bard who had given way to his tears and was rocking on his knees like a hurt child. They both could tell he didn't understand what was going on. How it had come to pass, and they led him out to the sitting room, Uruvion telling the guards in the room, the maids who were lingering and any who remained aside from themselves to leave as there was nothing else that could be done.

 

The feast! Uruvion remembered it, and set forth calling a page and messenger in after they sat Bard down on a couch. He was muttering to himself. Neither of them fully understood it. He told the page to let the advisers know that Thranduil could not come. He was injured. He did not wish to explain it more than that, and also said Bard was too overcome with worry to attend. He knew they would take care of it and no one, at least among the elves would question Bard or his children's absence. He did not know if the humans would. He told the messenger what the healer asked him to convey, then turned back to Bard, who at least was no longer rocking in place and muttering to himself, but just letting Ilasaline hold him.

 

Uruvion threw decorum to the wind now, and sat beside him. What Bard needed was a teacher and a friend. "Bard, I know it is a hard thing to ask, but I need you to calm down enough to listen to us. There are some things you should know of our people. I blame myself for not being positive that you understood them before we left Dale. There was no way Thranduil would have... known that you did not apparently have knowledge of them before he pursued his relationship ship with you. Please calm down. We will give you time." And with the promised patience, they waited.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

"My heart?" Thranduil laughed in mockery at this and backed away from the hand. "You must be insane."

 

 

It's eyes flashed angered for a moment, then the sly smile returned and the now feminine face eyed him up and down. "You mock my affection... you who have so foolishly given your heart to a mortal... and with it, your life."

 

Thranduil's eyes lowered at this and he looked up with narrowed eyes. The creature continued, and began circling him once more like a predator. "Tell me, what has that gotten you?" It laughed at this hardy and long seeing the hurt look in Thranduil's eyes. "What has *any* of them brought you? Aside from grief? I have watched through the centuries how you suffered all for the wrong ones... all for love. Each time your spirit and will grew weaker... and this time... I knew. I knew it would finally break you." It stopped at this, and stared at him hard, *You, the great elf king Thranduil*...." it's voice boomed around them at those words in mockery, then it lowered to a whisper that dripped with venom, "defeated by your own heart."

 

Thranduil's whole demeanor fell at those words, and his eyes brimmed with tears. It's face turned compassionate as it once again approached him. "Give *me* your heart. I have wanted nothing more for all these years and we can rule this space and time as well as your own. My magic is stronger than any elf, and my body ageless."

 

His breath caught and he felt tears escaping him and he whimpered in both disbelief and wonder with her next words and events. She curled her tails about his leg for a moment letting them brush sensually along his thigh before she moved slowly behind him. He now understood this was her true form. The male version being what form it had chosen to appear to be. All of this spirits kind had been created female. It was the way Morgoth wanted it.

 

 

"You do not have to look upon this form if you find it too unsettling. I can become," the voice deepened to a masculine one, and sounded like one he never thought he heard again as the creature continued, whoever you wish me to be."

 

Thranduil whirled around and his breath caught at the sight before him "How? Your dead..." was all he squeaked out.

 

His logic trying to reason it to be the illusion that the shapeshifter wanted him to see. But his heart and mind forced his body to react, and he reached a hand out to touch the warm shoulder of Celestre. This creature had every detail, from the ginger hair to the light scar that had run from his shoulder to just above the pink nub on the other side if his chest.

 

Logic kicked in at that moment and he began to shake his head, "No.... no."

 

The loving look in the gray eyes changed to a cunning one. "Perhaps you would prefer," and before his eyes the creature's form changed into... "her." Before his eyes was his long dead queen. Strawberry blonde hair fell in soft waves covering her perfect breasts and rounded hips. The red lips smiled at him playfully. The eyes, blue as his son's gazed at him hopefully. His heart was in turmoil begging to gather her in his arms. But again his mind took over and he shook his head.

 

A look of aggravation fleeted across the lovely face. "I see... Your current love then is all you want." And then before him a moment later was Bard from every detail down to the wing shaped birthmark on his hip.

 

Thranduil stepped back a couple paces at this, and a hand went to his mouth, the other to his heart. He heard Bard's voice as she spoke, "Whoever you want. Even him. *I* will never desert you. *I* will never take your love and then throw it away."

 

The form of Bard came forward and limply he let "him" gather him close. Thranduil let his forehead fall to rest on "Bard's" shoulder. He began to feel kisses on his neck, and hands beginning to wander along his back, and words, spellbinding, clouding his senses, "Love me. Forget.... and love me."

 

He felt himself beginning to instinctively react to Bard's voice and it's request before a voice from no where and everywhere was heard around him. Bard's voice. Though he could not make out the words. It reeled Thranduil back to his senses, and he pushed the creature away with a shout. "No! You're not really him! It's not real!"

 

 She snarled at him as her form took on its real shape once more. "So be it elfling!" She calmed herself and looked around her. "That leaves you 2 choices alone then. Forward or back. Forward is the light and it's promised nirvana - maybe you can be reincarnated one day. Back... it's life and it's sorrows." As if something occurred to her, she adopted a smug demeanor. "If you go back yes, he'll be there. Only *he* can bring you back at this point. Not even your precious son can call you back to the world now. Only your love can, the mortal you foolishly bound your soul to. But one day, when you can no longer stand the pain and facing the inevitable, you will search me out and beg me to take your heart and keep it. And I, being the only one who truly loves you, will oblige."

 

With that the creature and the woods about him faded away and he was surrounded by the galaxy of stars. To his right a lighted shore and an endless sea of sparkling water. Beautiful and tranquil, such promise in its depths. To his left darkness save the stars about him. He looked longingly in both directions. He understood now. He was at the crossroads... the place between life and death.

 

He knew not how long he stared into the two directions. He only knew the waters called more and more to him, and his resolve to be in the cusp of this purgatory was weakening. Every now and then he clearly heard a voice he knew but none were strong enough to pull Thranduil into the vast starlit world to his left calling him back. The only time the pull would come would be when he would hear the faint echo of Bard's voice. With that he knew the creature was right. No one could bring him back now save Bard.

 

 

He continued to wait becoming more and more transfixed with the waters to the right of him, until finally his will to fight it was gone and he began to walk towards them. When the first splashes of the water curled about his bare feet a sense of sheer peace filled him, and with a smile he finally looked ahead of him and began to wade forward into it. When it reached his waist it was as if it's depth was reached and he started to wade to the distant white shore ahead.

 

Just as he seen he was half way out he heard it. It forced him to turn about to the starlit darkness behind him. Bard's voice calling to him. Sobbing... begging... His name asking him to come back and not leave. The silent plea echoed about him, "I didn’t understand. Please don't leave me alone!"

 

It fell silent for a long moment and Thranduil was in turmoil. Behind him were white shores, a quick sunrise, and a far green country... peace, no more pain. No more of anything.

 

No more love.

 

A sobbed caught in his throat and with it he glanced over his shoulder at the beckoning shores and began to wade back in a walk at first, then finally a run. At top speed he sprinted forward and finally there was another light and Thranduil hurled himself forward towards it.

 

His eyes opened and he sat up with a gasp. The next moment coughing, choking on the intake of air hitting his lungs -like being born again his mind briefly mused. He turned his head and slowly the figures beside him came into focus, the one foremost in front of him gripping his hand to his cheek and in tears was Bard.

 

Behind him Legolas, and Bard's eldest children. The healer was at the foot of the bed. As he looked around himself bewildered, he fell back on the pillows and seen Uruvion and Ilasaline in the background holding each other.

 

For a moment the beauty of the white shores flickered into his mind, but he turned it aside when he felt the soreness in his body voice itself and the dryness of his mouth.

 

"Water," he heard the healer say as he closed his eyes to the light in the room.

 

He heard rummaging then felt a cup being brought to lips as the familiar hand of Uruvion lifted his head, and his voice commanded "drink".

 

Suddenly feeling too weak to fight, he obeyed and his parched mouth was ever grateful for it. Finally he turned his face back to where Bard was and gave him a weak smile. "You bastard! Don't ever do that to me again!" He said between dying sobs.

 

Thranduil tried to chuckle but it only caused a coughing fit before he retorted, "Don't try and break up with me anymore then."

 

Ilasaline came forward shaking her head with a relieved expression, "Honestly your majesty! You're too old to be taking tantrums!"

 

Uruvion laughed at that, and jested , "Yes, I agree. That had to be the tantrum of a century!"

 

Thranduil rolled his eyes and let them have their laughs at his expense. He contented himself with looking into Bard's eyes. The healer finally stood and came to Thranduil's side shooing Bard away to both of their protests. He checked Thranduil's pulse and listened to his heart, then peered into his eyes for damages, and checking limbs and appendages for muscle weakness.

 

"I suspect a week in bed to recover. *Light* activities such as walking to recover strength. Gentle foods for two days." He turned to Bard and gave him a point blank stare, "Avoid over stimulating conversations and strenuous intimacy for a week as well."

 

He raised his eyebrows at Bard to be sure he got the point. Then turned to Thranduil and took Bard by the hand, took Thranduil's hand and linked them together. "Closeness and cuddling is encouraged however." He pointed a finger at Thranduil, "No arguing with anybody over anything for a week as well."

 

Thranduil nodded with a mischievous grin. "Yes sir."

 

The healer raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean it." He returned to looking at Bard. "You're married to each other. Get over it and be happy!"

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The healer quickly shooed everyone out of Thranduil's bed chamber. He checked Thranduil again and satisfied that he was indeed back with them, bid them obey his instructions. With a critical eye, he wryly told Bard to finally eat a full meal and to actually sleep!

 

Bard avoided looking at Thranduil, who frowned at these words. Bard muttered that he would take the healers advice. The healer snorted and grumbled about humans being almost as stubborn as dwarves as he left them.

 

"Bard?" Thranduil's voice was weak and Bard couldn't stop the tears that spilled at hearing it.

 

He had thought he would never hear it again. And it was all his fault. Bard finally looked Thranduil fully in the eyes. "Thran.....please....please.....I am so sorry...I never....I didn't" He choked on the words, grief at his foolishness and joy that Thranduil hadn't faded.

 

He wasn't sure he could ever explain himself to Thranduil. He buried his face in the blanket next to Thranduil, so ashamed of what he had done. "Please....please forgive me...." was his muffled cry. Bard's sobs became even harder when he felt Thranduil's fingers brush thru his hair, stroking the wild strands.

"Bard." Thranduil's voice was stronger.

 

Bard turned his head, eyes closed as Thranduil's fingers pushed the locks away so he could see Bard's tear streaked face. Bard opened his eyes to met Thranduil's. "You look terrible." Thranduil said, cupping Bard's cheek. Laughter bubbled out, mixed with more tears. Bard caught Thranduil's hand and kissed the palm.

 

"Well...it's been a terrible week." Bard whispered.

 

 

Just a bit of an understatement! Bard held Thranduil's hand, kissing and nuzzling it, as his lips trembled and he tried to get himself under control. Terrible didn't begin to cover it.

 

From the moment Thranduil had leapt up from the bed to be sick, to seeing him collapse, to watch as he lay on the verge of death, and the knowledge that it was his fault. No one said it, but he knew it was. He should have spoken to Thranduil first. He should have come to him before giving into his fears.

 

Bard squeezed Thranduil's hand tighter. He had been so stupid and worse, he had been selfish and vain. He had come to this realization due to the dreams, no nightmares. Bard shuddered as he thought about them. He knew they were part of the reason that Thranduil had finally woke, that he had finally heard him, was because of them. Bard kissed Thranduil's finger tips, thankful for them, even as painful and hateful they had been, they forced him to face the truth. Even though he was sure that was not the intent of malicious fox spirit that haunted him every time he slipped into a fitful sleep.

 

Come, hold me." Thranduil said, tugging his hand to get him up.

 

Bard quickly slipped behind Thranduil, curling around him, their fingers entwined. Bard inhaled deeply. Thranduil muttered that he needed a bath and Bard kissed his head.

 

"You smell a bit gamey but there is no way I am letting you go right now, to me you smell divine!" Bard nuzzled at Thranduil's neck and took another deep breath to show him that he meant it.

 

Bard struggled against the pull of sleep. The warmth of Thranduil in his arms and lack of real sleep was slowly winning the battle. Thranduil's breathing was slow and steady, already slipping into sleep. As Bard began to drift down, he wondered if the fox spirit would appear in his dreams? Bard's arms tightened around Thranduil. Before sleep claimed him, he knew that he hadn't seen the last of that creature....


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The menace that plagues the couple enters Bard's dreams...

Bard woke slowly. He still had his arm around Thranduil's waist, still pressed close to the warm body. Bard blinked sleep from his eyes but didn't stir. He simply watched Thranduil as he slept, something he had been doing for the past week. Except then, he watched helplessly as Thranduil seemed to slip further and further away. Now he was warm and breathing, not the cold and still body that left him terrified at what he had done, of how *he* basically killed his lover and friend. All for what? Because he had been afraid. 

Bard sighed heavily and regretted it as Thranduil stirred, shifting around to face Bard but not waking. Bard marveled at the sight of his elven lover. Thranduil's pale skin was no longer the sickly shade of white-ish grey, a soft blush of sleep tinted his cheeks, his lips soft and slightly parted. Dark lashes, long and thick, hiding the icy blue depths of his eyes. Bard had feared he would never see those eyes open and hold his own. 

Bard gave a small huff at his own stupidity. Thranduil's lips twitched. Bard's eyes narrowed. Was his lover playing at being asleep? Bard desperately wanted to speak with Thranduil but he also wanted him to rest. The state he had laid in was not a true rest, it had been a battle. Bard's own sleep, when he fell into it, had been anything but peaceful. 

Bard waited, watching Thranduil, who seemed to be truly sleeping. Bard lay there, thinking about the dreams that had haunted him. 

 

Once they had gotten Thranduil into bed and the healer had seen him, Uruvion had taken Bard aside and told him what was happening. Bard could hardly believe what he was told. Uruvion and his wife were just as surprised that Bard knew nothing of what it meant in becoming Thranduil's lover. 

Bard's grief at what he had done was overwhelming. He begged them to forgive him, that he had only wanted to spare Thranduil of having to see him die, that he didn't want Thranduil to have to endure that again. Hadn't Thranduil suffered enough? Seen too many of those he loved taken from him? Bard's death would happen and by elven standards, quickly. 

Both the elves had gazed at him in sorrow and pity. His wife was a bit more gruff with him. She pointed out that Thranduil knew all of that and still chose to give his heart to him. Bard knew he deserved her anger, there was nothing he could say.  
Instead, he wiped his eyes and with shoulders set, took Thranduil's hand in his, lifted it to press his lips against the cold skin and prayed for him to come back to him. Bard ignored everyone that came and went, that implored him to eat and sleep. Bard's lips moved as he spoke his words silently to Thranduil, a litany of calling him back, that he loved him, that he was a fool, that he didn't understand and to not leave him. 

When he finally succumbed to sleep, his dreams were filled with random patterns and images, then they shifted to water and forest. Bard was drawn to the water, that there was someone waiting there, calling for him. As he moved towards the waves, a flicker of movement at the forest edge caught his eye. 

Bard glanced at the forest but seeing nothing he began to move to the water and as he did so, again his eye was snagged by something in the forest. Bard turned fully to face the forest. His breath caught as he saw a body dash from behind a tree. Thranduil! Bard called out to him but Thranduil didn't stop, he twirled around, laughing and beckoning Bard to follow him. 

Bard hesitated, the call from the water still there, sounding like words but he couldn't make them out. He glanced back. Thranduil? 

No, Thranduil was in the forest and he needed to reach him. Except.... 

Bard's attention was pulled back to the woods as Thranduil hissed at him from the green depths, "Catch me if you can!" Bard started at this, seeing a wisp of Thranduil's long silver hair as he dashed from one tree to the next. "Come my love, come get me!" 

Bard gave chase, Thranduil's laughter ringing out. Bard laughed too, he was excited and happy that Thranduil was okay. Bard raced after his fleet footed lover, running faster and with great bounds, gaining on Thranduil, reaching out to grasp his arm and then..…

Bard stood in a vast field of grass, the blades towering over his head, swaying and whirling around him, the wind whispering through them, making a sound like that of the ocean.…

"BARD!" Thranduil's voice cried out. 

Bard twisted around, calling out for him, pushing through the tall grass blindly. "Thranduil!" Bard yelled out. 

It echoed back at first in his own voice then increasingly in a mocking and cruel tone. Bard kept running, the blades of grass slashing his hands, arms and face, leaving bloody gashes there. Bard was slowing being shredded to pieces but he couldn't stop, he needed to find Thranduil. 

"Please don't leave me!" Bard screamed as he was devoured by the grass, but just before the grass sliced his eyes out, Bard saw a fox between the fronds. 

It smiled at him, eyes bright and cunning as it hissed at him in Thranduil's voice, "You will never find him!" 

 

Bard had woken from that dream in panic. Thranduil still lay in his death like state. It had been such a vivid dream. Bard could still feel the ragged cuts from the grass. Bard trembled at the nightmare. It had been the brief sight of the fox that had terrified him the most. 

Bard stared at Thranduil. He was sure that it was the fox creature that had taken on his lovers form to lure him away. Bard normally didn't put any stock in dreams, that they held meanings and revealed secret truths....except Bard knew that this time....this time the dreams and that fox were tied to Thranduil and he needed to take heed of them.   
The next dream, when he finally fell into a exhausted sleep, found him once again standing on the shore, the ocean pulling him just as strongly as before. There was something out there that was calling to him. Bard knew he needed to reach that something before it was too late. 

That feeling of panic took hold of him that he was too late, as he stepped into the cold water, a figure approaching him. Bard tried to ignore it, but as it came closer he saw that it was Anneka. Her smile radiant and arms wide open in greeting. Bard stumbled to a stop. She was even more beautiful, her eyes alight with lust and something darker. 

He began to move towards her but hesitated as she spoke. "Bard!" She called out. "Bard, come make love to me..." 

Her dress was thin, showing every curve of her body, the swell of her hips and breast. Bard's eyes narrowed. Anneka never called him by his name. She swayed seductively, "I have missed you...." 

Bard shook his head at her. She frowned at him. "Bard!" Her voice harder, more demanding, "Come to me!" 

"You come to me." Bard replied. 

Anneka glared at him from the waters edge. Bard noticed that she moved away as the waves surged up the sand. Bard moved deeper into the surf. Anneka hissed at him. 

"Do you think you can reach him?" Anneka's eyes took on the witch glow of the fox. Anneka's smile turned feral and a tail swished out. "You have already lost him, human." It spat at him. 

A wave crashed up against his legs, causing him to stagger. "You have broken his heart....why would he want you now that you have shown him that you never really loved him?" Another flick of the tails and a bigger wave surged up, knocking him down, rolling him towards the shore and the creature that crouched, waiting to catch him. 

Bard struggled against the water, to stay away from the shore. His foot found purchase and he righted himself, his breathing ragged as he regarded the fox woman that prowled the edge of the water, glaring at him. 

"Why do you care?" Bard demanded through gritted teeth. "What is Thranduil to you?" 

The creature stopped, it's eyes narrowing at his question. "He is everything to me." It said.

Bard's breath caught at this. Could this demon really love Thranduil? Bard shook his head at this. It was just another trick and he would not give in to it. 

"If that is true, then why are you trying to stop me?" Bard asked it. 

"He is MINE!" The creature shrieked. "You are nothing...you will only bring him grief and loss.... you with your pathetic excuses for leaving him....HE DESERVES A GOD NOT A WORM!"

"Yes....." Bard said softly. The creature's eyes widened at this. "Yes, I am pathetic." Bard hung his head as he realized that it was right. Bard's voice was broken as he spoke, he gave a weak laugh at the truth of the fox's words. "I was afraid....afraid of him becoming disgusted that he bound himself to a mortal. I couldn't bear the idea of him seeing me old and weak.... I am vain...and I was wrong." Bard voice hardened, hands clenched to his sides, "*HE* believed in me....in *US* and I see that now....I will do whatever it takes to bring him back...BECAUSE I LOVE HIM!" 

At this Bard, whirled and dove into the water. The cold water dragged him forward, pulling him into a swift undertow. Bard's lungs burned as he was hurled deeper and deeper. Somewhere he could here the foxes voice screaming at him but even stronger was the call of Thranduil, which had become a distant glow in the dark before him. Bard knew that he wouldn't survive, already the edges of his vision were darkening as the water slowly crept into his lungs, he didn't stop, he kept swimming toward the glow, towards Thranduil. 

His movements slowed, the pressure to breathe winning out as he gasped, the icy water surging down his throat, drowning him. 

The fox's mocking voice rang out, "So much for your love, human....you can't win against me....he will be mine forever....." 

Bard's eyes rolled back, his life slowly leaving him...he had failed Thranduil..... Bard pulled into his lungs the salty water and with his last shred of life, screamed towards the glow of Thranduil: "I didn't understand. Please don't leave me alone!" 

 

Bard would swear that he had actually drowned, he had come awake with a whooping gasp, and to his amazement and joy, Thranduil was staring at him. Bard's joy and relief was interrupted by everyone who had come rushing in at his cry. 

Bard squeezed Thranduil tightly at the thought of those nightmares. Bard eased his grip, but didn't let go. He wasn't sure he would ever let go of Thranduil. His vanity had nearly cost him the love of his life. 

"Are you going to stare at me all day?" Thranduil mumbled sleepily. "And your squeezing me too hard, didn't the healer say that I wasn't supposed to be subjected to rough handling?" 

Bard shook his head at his lover. He let go of Thranduil to wipe at his eyes. Thranduil's brows furrowed at him. Bard gave a small shake of his head. 

"I'm alright my love, just thinking about the last week and how foolish I have been." Bard told him. "What I put you through, what I put all of us through." Bard's sigh was ragged and full of regret. 

Thranduil made a small noise of distress. Bard quickly reached out to brush back the long strands of hair from Thranduil's face. "Don't say anything, Thran....We both know it's true. I can't forgive myself yet and I won't blame you if you don't forgive me either, but I hope that we can over come how incredibly stupid I really am!' 

 

 

Thranduil snorted and an evil grin remained on his face, "If I wasn't bound to light activity for the next week, I could think of some ways you can repay me." 

He seen Bard's momentary look of confusion then a knowing smile came to his face. 

"That would promise to be full of rewards for both of us if your mind is where I think mine is."

"I dare say it is," Thranduil commented with a smirk. Then with a roll of his eyes he sat up and with Bard's help, propped the pillows behind his head. "So, I understand it is the third day in the week, yes?" Bard nodded in confirmation when Thranduil looked over. "So, in two days it will be time for the begetting festival once more. I suppose they were canceled due to all of this?" 

Bard's face turned red, and he merely nodded again and looked away with another look of admonition. Thranduil sighed at the forlorn look and reached over to brush a stray strand of hair away from Bard's eyes. 

"My love, I know it is too much to ask right now, but do not blame yourself so much for this. There is really nothing to forgive. But if it makes you feel better, then I wholeheartedly forgive you. I must take a portion of the blame as well. I had become so wrapped up in the sheer love of you, and the knowing that you shared my feelings that I had forgotten to be sure that you knew what type of commitment it meant, the scale of it." 

Bard sat up at this across from Thranduil and looked at him shaking his head, "No... I will not let you do that. You are from a race of the oldest beings in this world, *I* should have asked questions, researched more..." 

Thranduil held a hand up, "You're not supposed to argue with me Bard, remember? The healer's orders. There is no way you can convince me that this is not partially my fault." Thranduil smirked at this winning a wry grin from Bard. 

"Then we will just have to agree to disagree on this, until I decide you're right." Bard remarked with a grin. 

Thranduil shook his head and readjusted himself as he asked, "I seen Legolas here. When did he arrive? If it has only been a week he must have come by himself." Bard nodded looking away again, and down a haunted look in his eyes. Thranduil's eyes narrowed as Bard remained silent and avoiding his eyes. "Did you two have words?" 

Bard looked up then away, his mouth opening for a moment, then closing before he answered with a bowed head as he fidgeted with the blanket, "In a sense yes. There was not much more that he could say that had not already been said by Ilasaline and Uruvion, and... the others, Sigrid included. The summary was that he expected more from me, though he understood everything, even my initial reasoning, which I suppose I should explain..." Bard shook his head finally meeting Thranduil's eyes again, "and that no matter what happens he intends to kick my ass in an archery contest set up for a fortnight from now." 

Thranduil let out a bark of laughter. "He told me he intended to do that before he even left! Don't worry about it, it's more light-hearted than he is making it seem to be." 

"I almost killed his father Thran! I don't think he is going to take it lightly." Bard said with a furrowed brow. 

Thranduil gave him a set look and in a matter-of-fact tone replied, "I know my child. If he wanted to have a go at you over this, he would have done so by now. And quite frankly you would probably be laying here bloodied, broken and bruised next to me if that was the case."

Bard let out a breath of air and laughed. "I hadn't realized that I had been that worried about that match until now!" 

"So, what has the court been making of my 'illness'? I'm sure they're all ready to line up at the door and request an audience."   
Bard nodded with a roll of his eyes, "You wouldn't believe it. Well, maybe you would... Either way, Legolas has had his work cut out for him these last 2 days. I still do not know how he managed to get here so fast to be honest."   
Thranduil gave him a knowing smile. "We are children of the forest and he grew up here. He is tied to it, as am I. There is no limb or leaf bud he does not know here. Trust me, though full of peril, the journey can be made here in but 2 to 3 days time if need be." 

"I see." Bard looked away, his eyes clouding over with a troubled expression. 

Thranduil watched and wondered. Images of his time in the world of passing and his encounter with the fox spirit gripped him. She knew of Bard. For sure she probably has made an effort to either bargain with him or worse, haunt his dreams. He would need to take him deep into the bowels of his palace to the place where magic is performed. He would need to show him one way or another what he had seen. He did not regret permitting the fox spirits to make their homes in his forest. They protected the cherished places, they helped keep the realm protected in exchange for little. But this one, she was obsessed and insane. Yes, Bard would need to know about her, if he did not already. 

"May I ask what ails you my dearest?" Thranduil inquired with a soft look. 

Bard gave him what he could tell was a fake smile, "It's nothing that you need to worry about right now." 

Thranduil nodded in understanding, and turned his head to the door at hearing the almost inaudible footfalls that he knew to be those of Legolas. The soft knock came only seconds later.

"Come in, Legolas. You are not disturbing anything." 

The door opened and Legolas strode in, eyeing Bard for a moment with a leading smirk on his face before turning his attention to his father. Thranduil noticed there was a bundle of papers in his hand and a quill in the other. 

"Father." he bowed slightly in both greeting respect to position, and looked his father up and down for a moment. "I came to see how you are doing, and also, " he lifted his hand with the papers in it, "because I am unable to sign these myself." 

Thranduil held his hand out for the papers as he said, "I am doing better. I feel stronger with every hour. So, crisis adverted I can safely say." 

He offered his son an encouraging smile as he received the paperwork and quill. A relieved smile crossed Legolas' features for a moment before he let his usual mask resume. 

"I am very happy to hear that." He turned his attention to Bard, "Are you feeling better as well? You gave us an extra amount of worry for your health as well." Bard reddened and nodded. "The people obviously need both of you to make a united appearance once you are well enough. The court has been kept in the dark as to the reasons for both of your absences by stating it was an injury from one of the spiders that you obtained and did not know of until you came back to quarters. Our people obviously understood how heavy such a thing would play upon the heart of your *husband*. So they remained quiet about it. I'm afraid your people Bard, were not so understanding." 

Bard flinched a little when Legolas' emphasized the word 'husband', and Thranduil could see the realization setting in about how he had been apparently neglecting all in this crisis. Luckily Legolas was here to take charge the last couple of days, Thranduil thought. 

"Anyway, I just thought it best to ready you for the onslaught you will receive once you begin to leave these chambers once more. I recommend staying room bound at least until the feast." 

Thranduil nodded in agreement. "I agree that will probably be wise." 

"I will take my leave now." He turned to leave, but spun around with a genuine, large grin on his face, "I am happy to see you well again." He looked at both in turn, and for a moment Thranduil seen the child Legolas had been in what seemed just a few years before again, "Both of you." With that he turned and left. 

"I suppose I should start ruffling through these." Thranduil commented looking down at the first one which was a simple trade agreement. 

"Just don't wear yourself too thin, love." Bard commented laying back down and looking at Thranduil with tired, yet happy eyes. 

"I have you here to remind me not to." Thranduil said with a smirk and without looking the paper over too much, knowing his son had basically already done so, he signed his name. 

 

Bard closed his eyes as Thranduil began to read and sign the papers that Legolas had brought. Bard snuggled closer to Thranduil and was pleased when Thranduil rested his hand on top of his head, absently playing with his unruly hair. Bard smiled sleepily at the gentle touch, slipping his arm over Thranduil's waist, wanting to be as close to his elf as he could without disturbing his work. Bard took a look at the paper Thranduil was reading but it was all in Elvish so he was clueless to whatever it was about. Besides, he thought, he shouldn't poke his nose into affairs of Mirkwood. If Thranduil wanted his help, he would ask. Bard was content simply lay next to Thranduil, enjoying having his hair played with. 

"Bard." His name said in hushed tone. "Bard!" This time louder. 

Bard blinked awake, he must have drifted off to sleep. He looked over at the long body of Thranduil asleep next to him. Bard frowned. He was sure it had been Thranduil who had called out to him. 

Bard reached out to touch Thranduil when he moved, twisting to face Bard. Bard jerked back in horror. What he had taken to be Thranduil, was instead a corpse that writhed and squirmed with worms. The mouth of the creature opened and a hollow voice called his name again. Bard quickly scrambled out of the bed, throwing blankets over it as it struggled to reach him. 

Laughter erupted from behind him. Bard whirled to find the fox woman watching him, eyes dancing with amusement that bordered on insanity. She sat before the dressing table, watching him in the mirror. 

"What ever is the matter Bard?" She asked as she focused on herself in the mirror, picking up a brush to start to preen. "After all...." her eyes narrowed and her smile became hard and evil. "it's only you in a few years after all." 

Bard flinched at this, glancing back at the bed. "You lie." Bard snarled. 

Her smile vanished and she jerked around, throwing the brush at him, which he ducked and then moved towards the center of the bed room as she leapt up and advanced on him. "NO!" She shrieked, "IT IS YOU!" 

Bard looked around for something to defend himself with against her. She laughed again. "There is nothing you can do Bard." Her voice was like venom. "You have him for now, oh yes, you were able to bring him back, but for how long?" 

Bard froze at her words. As she came closer, she shifted into a coil of smoke, wrapping around him. Bard struggled but the coil tightened, her voice seeped into his mind. "See... see what the future holds for you...." she hissed and Bard saw. 

A sob escaped him. There was Thranduil, ever youthful and next to him....next to him was an old man. Bard watched his older self try to drink from the goblet, his hands shaking, spilling wine on himself. He saw the grimace of distaste on Thranduil's face. Elder Bard smiled at Thranduil but his elf wasn't looking at him, instead it was focused on a youthful elven lad, one who's eyes shown with the same witch fire as the fox woman. 

Bard shook his head and cried out "NO!" 

"Yes,!" She purred. "It will not happen quickly, no, he would never do that. But as time goes on, as you age, he ease away from you. At first, he will simply be busy with affairs of state and realm, he will sleep in his study so as not to wake you. Then he will begin to stay way for longer, he will move his personal belongs out one at a time, till they are all gone. You will lay awake, waiting for him to visit you. To tell you that he loves you still, and he will, but even those moments will become few and far between. Soon you will only have the company of healers. He will be busy with his young lover and when you die...." Her chuckle was low, "You will be buried and forgotten...left to rot and go back to the earth." 

Bard gritted his teeth, tears streaming down his face. "NO!" He shouted again. "Thranduil would never be like that! He would never betray me like that!" 

The smoke tightened around him, swirling up to his face, threatening to suffocate him. Bard struggled against it, fighting against it. 

 

"BARD! Bard wake up!" Thranduil's voice was stricken as Bard jerked awake and away from him. 

Bard looked around wildly and then back to Thranduil. Bard could see concern and something else: fear. Bard ran his hand over his face and let out a shaky breath. "I'm alright... I was...I was having a bad dream, that's all." Bard said, giving Thranduil a weak smile. Thranduil cocked a dark brow at him. There was still a glimmer of doubt in his blue eyes. Bard let out a deep breath. "Really Thran, I'm fine." 

Bard swallowed down the fear. He would swear that when he had taken a deep breath, he could smell the scent of smoke. 

"You were crying out and thrashing about." Thranduil said softly. 'It seems like it was more like a nightmare." Bard gave a small nod and Thranduil pulled him into his arms. "You kept saying no, and....and you cried out about betrayal..." Bard nuzzled into Thranduil, squeezing him tightly. Thranduil's arms tightened as well. "Did the nightmare have something to do with us?" Thranduil's sigh was weary. 

Bard pulled away to look at him. Bard could see Thranduil was troubled. Bard was torn. Should he tell him about the nightmare, about that retched fox woman and all her evil games? Or play it off as something else? Thranduil had already been through so much. Bard decided to go the middle ground. 

"It was only a bad dream Thran." Bard said gently. "Filled with weird and strange stuff." Bard managed a true smile for Thranduil. Thranduil's eyes narrowed at him. Bard was pretty sure Thranduil wasn't falling for it. "Besides, I have you here next to me to comfort me and hold me.... a rather nice way to chase away those pesky demons!" 

Bard felt Thranduil stiffen at his use of demon. Bard felt a chill run through him. It couldn't be! Had Thranduil suffered from the same fox spirit as he had?


End file.
